 clock was silent. The mill was
another wonder, and they never tired of turning it. Besides these, there
was a prism and a magnet; also a magnifying glass, wherein a flea was
transformed to a frightful monster, and a multiplying lens which showed
them the same object eleven times repeated.

“What does the Captain say?” was the frequent question; for by this
title of honor they designated the clock.

“When he strikes twelve times he says, ‘Hang on the kettle’; and when he
strikes four times he says, ‘Get up and go home.’”

Both interpretations were remembered. At noon visitors were never
wanting; but at the stroke of four all arose and departed, leaving the
missionaries for a time in peace.--FRANCIS PARKMAN.




        THE BURIAL OF MOSES


    By Nebo’s lonely mountain,
      On this side Jordan’s wave,
    In a vale in the land of Moab
      There lies a lonely grave;
    And no man knows that sepulchre,
      And no man saw it e’er,
    For the angels of God upturn’d the sod,
      And laid the dead man there.

    That was the grandest funeral
      That ever pass’d on earth;
    But no man heard the trampling,
      Or saw the train go forth--
    Noiselessly as the daylight
      Comes back when night is done,
    And the crimson streak on ocean’s cheek
      Grows into the great sun;

    Noiselessly as the spring-time
      Her crown of verdure weaves,
    And all the trees on all the hills
      Open their thousand leaves;
    So without sound of music,
      Or voice of them that wept,
    Silently down from the mountain’s crown,
      The great procession swept.

    Perchance the bald old eagle
      On gray Beth-peor’s height
    Out of his lonely eyrie
      Look’d on the wondrous sight;
    Perchance the lion stalking
      Still shuns that hallow’d spot,
    For beast and bird have seen and heard
      That which man knoweth not.

    But when the warrior dieth,
      His
clock was silent. The mill was 
 another wonder, and they never tired of turn it. Besides these, there 
 was a prism and a attraction; also a magnifying looking glass, wherein a flea was 
 transform to a frightful monster, and a reproduce lens which show 
 them the same aim eleven prison term repeated. 

 “ What does the Captain read? ” was the frequent question; for by this 
 title of award they designated the clock. 

 “ When he strikes twelve times he says, ‘ Hang on the kettle ’; and when he 
 strikes four fourth dimension he says, ‘ Get up and go home. ’ ” 

 Both interpretation were remembered. At noon visitors were never 
 wanting; but at the stroke of four all originate and departed, leaving the 
 missionaries for a time in peace.--FRANCIS PARKMAN. 




         THE BURIAL OF MOSES 


     By Nebo ’s lonely batch, 
       On this side Jordan ’s wave, 
     In a vale in the land of Moab 
       There lies a lonely grave; 
     And no valet knows that sepulchre, 
       And no man saw it e’er, 
     For the angels of God upturn’d the sod, 
       And laid the dead man there. 

     That was the grandest funeral 
       That ever pass’d on land; 
     But no man heard the trample, 
       Or see the gearing go forth-- 
     Noiselessly as the daylight 
       Comes back when night is done, 
     And the crimson streak on ocean ’s cheek 
       grow into the great sun; 

     Noiselessly as the spring - time 
       Her crown of verdure weave, 
     And all the trees on all the hills 
       Open their thousand leaves; 
     So without sound of music, 
       Or voice of them that cry, 
     mutely down from the batch ’s crown, 
       The great procession swept. 

     Perchance the bald old eagle 
       On gray Beth - peor ’s height 
     Out of his lonely eyrie 
       Look’d on the fantastic sight; 
     Perchance the leo stalking 
       Still banish that hallow’d spot, 
     For animal and bird have seen and heard 
       That which man knoweth not. 

     But when the warrior dieth, 
       His
 cllck was silent. The mill das
another wondgr, and tiey nevsr tired of turning it. Besides these, tyere
wqs a prism and a magneg; also a lagnifyibg goqss, whereii a flea was
trzksforkxd to a frightfol monster, atd a multiplyitg lzns which showed
them the same object eleven tlmes repeated.

“Wrat cjes fhe Captain say?” was the frequent qhestion; for by this
totle of honor they designahed hhe clock.

“When he shrikes twelce tynes he says, ‘Fang on tht nettle’; and when he
strikes four times he sxys, ‘Gzt up and gi yomf.’”

Toth interpcetatijns were remckbered. At noom visitors werc nevxr
wabting; but at the strone of four all arofe and de[axted, leaving the
missiinqries for a tkne kn keare.--FDANCIS PACKMAN.




        THE BURIAO OF MOSES


    By Neno’f lonely mountzin,
      On this side Jordan’s wave,
    In a vale in the land of Moab
      Rhere lies a lonely gtave;
    Anq no man knows that sepulchre,
      And no man saw it e’xr,
    Fjf tje angels of God upturn’d the sod,
      And laiq tne dead man therc.

    That was the brwncgst funeral
      Thac eber pass’d on earth;
    But no mqn heard uhe ttampling,
      Or saw the trqin go forth--
    Noiselessly as che daylight
      Comrs back when night is dune,
    And the frimson sffeak on ocean’s cfeel
      Grows into the great fun;

    Nomselexsly as the sprind-time
      Her gsown of verdure wewves,
    And all tje trees on all the hills
      Open their thoosatd neaves;
    So eithout sound of music,
      Or voiee of ghem that sept,
    Silently djwn from the kluntain’s croxn,
      Tre geeat procesrkon swept.

    Prrchance nht bald old eagle
      On gran Betf-leor’s height
    Ouu if his lonely ryrke
      Ljmk’d on the wmndruus xight;
    Perchange ghe kion stalking
      Sdill shuns that hallow’c fpot,
    Dor bease and bird hafe seen and heard
      Vhat wiich msn hnoweth not.

    But when the wadrior diehh,
      His
clock was silent. The mill was another they tired of it. Besides these, a also a magnifying wherein a flea transformed to a frightful monster, and multiplying lens which showed them the same object eleven times repeated. “What does Captain say?” was the frequent question; for by this title of honor they the “When strikes times he says, ‘Hang on the kettle’; and when he strikes four times he says, ‘Get and go home.’” Both interpretations were remembered. At visitors were never wanting; at the stroke of four arose departed, leaving missionaries a in peace.--FRANCIS PARKMAN. BURIAL OF MOSES By Nebo’s lonely mountain, On this side Jordan’s wave, In a vale in the of Moab a lonely And man that sepulchre, And saw it e’er, For the angels the sod, And laid the dead man there. was the funeral That ever pass’d on earth; no man heard the trampling, Or saw the go forth-- Noiselessly as the daylight Comes back when night is done, And the crimson ocean’s cheek Grows into great sun; Noiselessly the Her of weaves, And the trees on all the hills Open their thousand leaves; So sound of music, Or voice of them that wept, Silently the crown, The great swept. Perchance the bald eagle gray Beth-peor’s height Out lonely Look’d sight; the stalking Still shuns that spot, For beast and bird seen and heard That when the warrior dieth, His
 clock was silent. The mill was
aNother wondEr, and TheY neVeR tirEd of Turning it. BesidES theSe, there
was a prism and a maGnet; aLsO A magNIfYing gLass, wheREiN A FleA wAs
TraNsFOrMed to A frIghtful Monster, and A muLtIplying lens wHIcH showed
theM thE same object eLevEn timeS rEpeATed.

“WhAt dOes thE CaptaIN say?” waS the frequEnT QuestiON; for by tHIS
tItle Of honor they designATeD The clock.

“When he StrikeS tWElVE TimEs hE says, ‘Hang oN tHe ketTLe’; and whEN hE
STRikES four times he sAys, ‘Get up and GO hoMe.’”

Both InTerPRetatiOns weRe REmeMbered. At nooN visItors were Never
wANting; buT At the stRoke of FouR alL aroSE aNd DepArTEd, lEAvIng THe
mIssionarIeS fOr a tiMe in PEACE.--FRAnCIs PARkMAN.




        ThE BURIAL OF MOSeS


    BY NebO’S loNely mOuntaIn,
      On ThIs sidE JordaN’s wavE,
    IN a vale in the land Of MoAb
      There liEs a LoNelY gRave;
    AND no man KnoWs tHat sepuLchre,
      AnD No mAn SAW It E’er,
    For the angels of GOd UPTuRn’d the soD,
      And laID tHe DEad man thErE.

    ThAt waS THe graNdesT FuNeral
      ThaT ever pASs’D oN earth;
    BUt No man hEaRd tHe tRamplINg,
      Or Saw the Train go fOrth--
    NOIselessly as the DAylight
      Comes bACk WHEn NIght Is dOne,
    And the crImsoN StreAk on OCeAn’s CHeek
      GRows iNtO ThE Great sun;

    Noiselessly As The sprIng-tiMe
      Her crown of vErdure weavES,
    aNd all the TreeS On ALl the hills
      Open Their Thousand leAVes;
    So witHout sOund of muSic,
      Or voicE OF them thaT wePt,
    SIleNtlY DOwN from the mountAIN’s crOwN,
      The greAt pRocessiOn sWepT.

    PeRchAnCe the bald Old eagle
      on GrAy beTh-pEor’s hEIght
    Out oF hIs lOnEly Eyrie
      lOok’d on The woNdroUs SiGHt;
    PErchancE ThE LIon sTaLkIng
      STilL sHuns tHat hALloW’d spot,
    FOr beast anD biRD havE sEeN and heaRd
      That which maN kNoweth not.

    BUt WheN the waRRIor dieth,
      his
 clock was silent. The mil l was
anot her w ond er,  a nd t heynever tired of turn ing it. Besides these,  ther ew as a pr ism a nd a ma g ne t ;  al so  a  ma gn i fy ing g las s, wher ein a flea  wa stransformedt oa frightfu l m onster, anda m ultipl yi ngl ens w hic h sho wed
th e m thesame obje ct eleven times r e p ea ted. 

“What does theC ap t ain say?” wasthe fr eq u en t que sti on; for by  t his
t i tle ofh on o r the y  designated t he clock.
“ Whe n he s tr ike s  twelv e tim es hesays, ‘Hang  onthe kettl e’; an d  when h e 
strike s four  ti mes  hes ay s,  ‘G et upa nd  go hom e.’”

Bo th  i nterp reta t i o n s we rereme mbere d. At noon vi sit orsw ere  neve r
wan ting ;but a t thestrok eof four all aro se a nd depart ed,  l eav in g the missio nar ies  for atime in pea ce . - - FR ANCIS PARKMAN.



    THE B URIALO FMO S ES


   B y N ebo’ s lonel y mo u nt ain,
     Ont hi sside Jo rd an’s w av e,   In a vale  in th e land o f Moa b 
      There l i es a lonely g r av e ; 
  An d n o man knows  tha t  sep ulch r e, 
    An d noma n  s a w it e’er,
    Forth e ange ls of  God upturn’d  the sod,   And l aidt he dead man there .

   That was the gran destfuneral      Tha t ever pas s’d  on  ea rth ;    But no manh e ardth e tramp lin g,
     O r s awthe  t rain go f orth--
  N oi se les sly a s  the day li ght 
    Com e s back  when  nig ht  i s  do ne,
  An d thecr im sonstr ea k onocea n ’scheek
     Grow s i n to t he  g reat su n;

    Noise le ssly as th espr ing-ti m e 
      H er crown of verdure wea v es,
   An d all  the  trees on  al l thehil l s
     Open  thei rtho u s and l e a ve s;   So witho u t  so und o fmusi c,
     Or voice of them tha t wept,
    S ile ntly d ow n f r om the  m o unt a i n’s crown,
     The grea tp ro cession sw e pt. 
    Per chancethe b a ld oldeagle
     On gra yBeth - p eor ’s height    Outof his lo n ely e y ri e
    Look’d  o n t he wo ndrous sig ht;
   Per ch ance t he li on  stalkin g
      Still shuns tha t hall ow’dspo t,
    Fo r b e ast  and bird  hav e seen and  he ard 
     T h at wh ichm an  kn o wethnot. 
    Butw he n t h e  w arrior diet h ,      Hi s
 clock_was silent._The mill was
another wonder,_and they_never_tired of_turning_it. Besides these,_there
was a prism_and a magnet; also_a magnifying glass,_wherein_a flea was
transformed to a frightful monster, and a multiplying lens which showed
them the_same_object eleven_times_repeated.

“What_does the Captain say?” was_the frequent question; for by_this
title of_honor they designated the clock.

“When he strikes twelve_times_he says, ‘Hang_on the kettle’; and when he
strikes four times he_says, ‘Get up and go home.’”

Both_interpretations were remembered._At_noon_visitors were never
wanting; but_at the stroke of four all_arose and departed, leaving the
missionaries for_a time in peace.--FRANCIS PARKMAN.




  _     THE_BURIAL OF MOSES


  _ By_Nebo’s lonely mountain,
  _  _On this_side Jordan’s wave,
_   In a vale_in the land_of Moab
    __There lies a_lonely_grave;
_ _ And no_man_knows that_sepulchre,
_     And_no_man saw it e’er,
   _For the angels of_God_upturn’d the sod,
 _    And_laid the dead man there.

 _ _That was_the grandest funeral
      That ever pass’d_on earth;
    But_no man heard the_trampling,
 __  _Or_saw the_train go forth--
    Noiselessly_as the_daylight
     _Comes back when night_is_done,
    And the_crimson streak on ocean’s cheek
 _    Grows_into_the_great sun;

   _Noiselessly as the spring-time
  _  _Her crown of verdure weaves,
  __And all the trees on all_the_hills
     _Open_their_thousand leaves;
   _So without sound of music,
 _    Or voice of them that_wept,
  _ Silently down from the_mountain’s_crown,
_     The great procession swept.

 _ _Perchance the bald_old eagle
      On gray Beth-peor’s_height
    Out of his_lonely eyrie
      Look’d on the wondrous_sight;
    Perchance the lion stalking
_     Still shuns_that hallow’d spot,
 __ For beast and bird have seen_and_heard
__  _ That which_man knoweth not.

_ _ But when_the warrior_dieth,
  __  His