"This is thy lesson, mighty sea!
Man calls the dimpled earth his own,
The flowery vale, the golden lea;
And on the wild gray mountain-stone
Claims nature's temple for his throne!
But where thy many voices sing
Their endless song, the deep, deep tone
Calls back his spirit's airy wing,
He shrinks into himself, when God is king!"
Lunt.
For some months after the change of government, Mark Woolston was
occupied in attending to the arrangement of his affairs, preparatory to
an absence of some length. Bridget had expressed a strong wish to visit
America once more, and her two eldest children were now of an age when
their education had got to be a matter of some solicitude. It was the
intention of their father to send them to Pennsylvania for that purpose,
when the proper time arri
