Part 9 (1/2)
THE RIVER JORDAN.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
The river Jordan rises in the mountains of Lebanon, and falls into the little Lake Merom, on the banks of which Joshua describes the hostile Kings as pitching to fight against Israel. After pa.s.sing through this lake, it runs down a rocky valley with great noise and rapidity to the Lake of Tiberias. In this part of its course the stream is almost hidden by shady trees, which grow on each side. As the river approaches the Lake of Tiberias it widens, and pa.s.ses through it with a current that may be clearly seen during a great part of its course. It then reaches a valley, which is the lowest ground in the whole of Syria, many hundred feet below the level of the Mediterranean Sea. It is so well sheltered by the high land on both sides, that the heat thus produced and the moisture of the river make the spot very rich and fertile. This lovely plain is five or six miles across in parts, but widens as it nears the Dead Sea, whose waters cover the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, destroyed for the wickedness of their inhabitants.
ON JORDAN'S BANKS.
On Jordan's banks the Arab camels stray, On Sion's hill the False One's votaries pray-- The Baal-adorer bows on Sinai's steep; Yet there--even there--O G.o.d! thy thunders sleep:
There, where thy finger scorch'd the tablet stone; There, where thy shadow to thy people shone-- Thy glory shrouded in its garb of fire (Thyself none living see and not expire).
Oh! in the lightning let thy glance appear-- Sweep from his s.h.i.+ver'd hand the oppressor's spear!
How long by tyrants shall thy land be trod?
How long thy temple wors.h.i.+pless, O G.o.d!
BYRON.
FORt.i.tUDE.
Without some degree of fort.i.tude there can be no happiness, because, amidst the thousand uncertainties of life, there can be no enjoyment of tranquillity. The man of feeble and timorous spirit lives under perpetual alarms. He sees every distant danger and tremble; he explores the regions of possibility to discover the dangers that may arise: often he creates imaginary ones; always magnifies those that are real. Hence, like a person haunted by spectres, he loses the free enjoyment even of a safe and prosperous state, and on the first shock of adversity he desponds. Instead of exerting himself to lay hold on the resources that remain, he gives up all for lost, and resigns himself to abject and broken spirits. On the other hand, firmness of mind is the parent of tranquillity. It enables one to enjoy the present without disturbance, and to look calmly on dangers that approach or evils that threaten in future. Look into the heart of this man, and you will find composure, cheerfulness, and magnanimity; look into the heart of the other, and you will see nothing but confusion, anxiety, and trepidation. The one is a castle built on a rock, which defies the attacks of surrounding waters; the other is a hut placed on the sh.o.r.e, which every wind shakes and every wave overflows.
BLAIR.
THE IVY IN THE DUNGEON.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Letters ”The”.]
The Ivy in a dungeon grew Unfed by rain, uncheer'd by dew; Its pallid leaflets only drank Cave-moistures foul, and odours dank.
But through the dungeon-grating high There fell a sunbeam from the sky: It slept upon the grateful floor In silent gladness evermore.
The ivy felt a tremor shoot Through all its fibres to the root; It felt the light, it saw the ray, It strove to issue into day.
It grew, it crept, it push'd, it clomb-- Long had the darkness been its home; But well it knew, though veil'd in night, The goodness and the joy of light.
Its clinging roots grew deep and strong; Its stem expanded firm and long; And in the currents of the air Its tender branches flourish'd fair.
It reach'd the beam--it thrill'd, it curl'd, It bless'd the warmth that cheers the world; It rose towards the dungeon bars-- It look'd upon the sun and stars.