falls the plague on men,
And the brightness of their smile was gone
From upland, glade, and glen,

4. And now, when comes the calm, mild day,
As still such days will come,
To call the squirrel and the bee
From out their winter home;
When the sound of dropping nuts is heard,
Though all the trees are still,
And twinkle in the smoky light
The waters of the rill,
The south wind searches for the flowers
Whose fragrance late he bore,
And sighs to find them in the wood
And by the stream no more.

5. And then I think of one, who in
Her youthful beauty died,
The fair, meek blossom that grew up
And faded by my side.
In the cold, moist earth we laid her,
When the forest cast the leaf,
And we wept that one so lovely
Should have a life so brief;
Yet not unmeet it was that one,
Like that young friend of ours,
So gentle and so beautiful,
Should perish with the flowers.

DEFINITIONS.--1. Wail'ing, lamenting, mourning. Sear, dry, withered. 3.
Glade, an open place in the forest. Glen, a valley, a dale. 4. Un-meet',
improper, unfitting.

XXXV. THE THUNDERSTORM.

Washington Irving (b. 1783, d. 1859). This distinguished author, whose
works have enriched American literature, was born in the city of New York.
He had an ordinary school education, and began his literary career at the
age of nineteen, by writing for a paper published by his brother. His
first book, "Salmagundi," was published in 1807. Two years later he
published "Knickerbocker's History of New York." In 1815 he sailed for
Europe, and remained abroad seventeen years, during which time he wrote
several of his works. From 1842 to 1846 he was minister to Spain. The last
years of his life were passed at "Sunnyside," near Tarrytown, N.Y. He was
never married. "The Life of Washington," his last work, was completed in
the same year in which he died. Mr. Irving's works are characterized by
humor, chaste sentiment, and elegance and correctness of expression. The
following selection is from "Dolph" in "Bracehridge Hall."

1. In the second day of the voyage, they came to the Highlands. It was the
latter part of a calm, sultry day, that they floated gently with the tide
between these stern mountains. There was that perfect quiet which prevails
over nature in the languor of summer heat. The turning of a plank, or the
accidental falling of an oar, on deck, was echoed from t