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A ^PPLJEDjyyGb__ln ^_ « '653 Eost Moin Street —^ Roclieslet, Ne« York 14609 USA •J= ("6) «a2-0300-Pt,one ^^ ('16) 288 - 5989 - To. rnmff^!^- t,^ jfaesai^,. - .J**^ mmm^mx^ fT^^m^'^sm^' ■ \ l\ \> fc? f "'■^ f Vt r 'THE OLD OLD STORY.' ^.'• -w--™f^»Baf«i5!SSS^jj?^jg^^ A CA BEFORE THE PIER GLASS. EAUTIFUX GEMS 'WW^" ^ OF THOUGHTS SHNTIMENT BEING A VAST. TREASURY OF CHOICE PRODUCTIONS IN POETRY PROSE AND SONG FR(^M THE LITI'RATURE AND MUSIC OF ALL ACiES, CONTAIN!. NT, CAPTIVATING SONGS OF LOVK AM) ROMANCE; NARRATIVKS AM) M.:(;i.:NDSi LYRICS OF PATRIOTISM AM) .\DVi;.\TLRi; : FOK.MS OF SFNTlMFiNT, RELIGION, TRA(;HI)Y AM) COMFDV; BKAUilFUL Dlv- SCRII'TIONS OF SCENES IN X Al IRR; SONGS FOR THE FIRESIDE, CHlI,l)HOOI) AND YOUTH, FAIkV TALES AND FI.ORAI, OEMS. I'olTI \K MELODIES; WIT AND HUMOR; MASrERl'IECES OF ELOOUENCE. PA IHOS, ETC., ETC. COMril.in) BY HENRY DAVENPORT NORTHROP, D. D., AlTllciK UK "'Earth, Sea and Sky." "Cyoicu Jc7,-cls," etc., dc. Embellished tDifeh Superb Sfceel-platc Engraoings. MCDERAlilJ& Uh; AN. LONDON. ONTARIO. BWJDON PUBLIC L5CPARY ff ART MUS«J« Entered according to Act of Conjrres.s, in the year 1890, by HENRY DAVENPORT NoiMJlRoi', In the Office of tlie Libnirian of Congress, at \V:islii,^.ton, D. C. PREFACE. flllbnewand comprehensive work compriseb the rarest gems ot Poetry I'ros*, ' and feon^r .-ver given to the world. The richest thoughts of the 'n,iu.ter minds ul all ages, tiie sweetest son-s of immortal bards, the ihriilin- produc- t.ons whjeh awal .n the deepest emotions of every heart, the l.rigl>test jewels kmdk'd by the light of human genius are bn.ught together in this volume. Kroni Homer and Virgil to Dante; from Dante to Milton and Drvden • irom the worl.l-renowned authors of past ages to Tennyson, TlH.ekeray! L(mgfeIlow, Holmes, Whittier, and many others in our own time no less tr;:r"?tV Turr '' "^f-^^--r'-'^ have charmed the world are culled, comprili'n r^ tv in thlfht ' '"■ «MH.vatmg, most soul-stirring, most pathetic, most sl.blime, ,nost lotty in thought, glowing in description and eloquent in language. The FiKK8iDK.-This work is expressly designed to be", companion in the home a source stir ;;::::? 'f ■ "^'"f ^" ■" ^'? '^''"^^•'"■^'- --' - ^^ - ->--">• -lapted ;« the «:: suit liamo^t refining sentiments, the most beautiful descriptions of domestic life the mo.t evating thoughts adapted to the rising generation, awaken afresh the jovs of home iTfe u oreat-. that influence which is the mother of all true character. ' ScK.NES IX NATUUE.-Here is a vast and pleasing collection of pen-pictures noetical «enius portraying the beauties of the world and painting in vivid colors tl.e gCs of cSoi"! "Faint utnl far, in lines of beauty, fancy lias unfurled To the vision all the sunny gart'.ens of the world." This part of Beautifiu, Gic.ms is a panorama of those brilliant scenes which have alwav. pired the pen of the poet and charmed the heart <.f the beholder. Here are elysimfi ll of d r fIT; in"; "T "^'' ^""1"/"'^"' •" ^"^^'"'^ «-"<^-^' -Ivery brooks and turbt^ en n ers. had. in turn, the seasons bring to the reader '.„ « ritmgs Nahkat.vks ,n SoNG.-Here is a collection of the most striking lyric narrative, ever nro- . u ed. 1 les true to lite are gracefully told, vividly drawn with the most delicate touc 'n , their etlect upon the reader is one of charming; delight. ' LovK AM) RoMA.N-cE.-This part of Beautiful Gems is a volume in itself, and needs no woid ut praise to recommend it to the reader. The theme of love, with its comp. nio, Zanee Ideals to tlie inmost heart. Here is the great n.aster passion p;rtrayed . te d n" ' in ail Its majesty and power. Here is a treasury of the heart's best emotions exprled in so " • of the most gifted authors, such as Tom Moore, Byron, Goldsmith, and scores of others ^ KEKoisM AND FuEEiK,M.-All lovers of the heroic here find their taste full v gratified Plerf are songs winch have aroused the hearts of nations; here is the bugle peal ani u!l roli of th! (1) G3- MAIN LIBRARY PREFACE. drum ; here is the psean of victory and the sweet melody of peace. Stirring deeds of valor and patriotism are here oommemorated ; Iiere are Jubilant songs of freedom and victory. Ballaus and LKOENna.— Fascinating tales in rhyme, some of them bordering on the weird andJ:intastic; quaint old legends, with all their beautiful meaning, told in song, enliven the pages ot thin part of the work. Pleasing ballads charm the ear, recalling descrir»-.M.s of tho bartis of ancient times, wlien tlu- wandering minstrel sang his lays amid scenes of pu, r ; beauty Songs of SKNTiMKNx.-This is an appropriate title for this most beautiful collection of lems. 01 all the utterances of gifted and noble minds, those most worthy of preservation are »uch as pertain lo the inner life, the living soul. These have been collected with great care- All that iH commonplace has been rejected, and only the golden thoughts have been preserved PoKMs OF PATH(.s.-Productions that touch the heart, awaken all its deepest emotions, turn the eyes to fountains of tears, and thrill the whole inner being, have been born of the most gifted minds, and no one can read them unmoved. In Beautiful Gkms are found the master- pieces of Tom Moore, Tennyson, Stoddard, Robby Burns, George D. Prentice and many others Happy Childhood -A theme sweet and delightful, suggesting the joys of innocence and the charms ol early life. Here is rich food for the leisure hour; selections that have un- bounded charms alike for young and old enliven the pages of this superb volume. Fairy TALRS.-Under this title is a select series of enchanting tales of wonderland the rea m where tancy s own sweet self. Queen Mab, holds reign. In these charming pages every child will find delightful entertainment, combined with instructive moral lessons, stamping themselves indelibly upon the mind, and sowing the seeds of moral beauty in the heart. Poems of RELIGION.-This section of the work comprises priceless gems of religious senti- ment that are dear to all hearts. Their peculiar value and attractiveness is beyond all estimate Many are new, while others are old, and countless precious memories cluster around them* Here such authors are represented as William Faber, Horatius Bonar, Anna Waring Philli,,s Brooks, Bryant, etc. ' Personal Poems.— A rare collection of pen-pictures in which the greatest of the world's great men are immortalized, statesmen, patriots, authors, painters, explorers, heroes and others. Songs of Other DAYS.-These are the charming melodies that have, by their inherent beauty, pathos, humor and sentiment, survived their day. They find favor with all readers while many of them are landmarks, denoting the flight of time. ' Tragedy.— This department embraces u collection of extracts the most thrilling to be found m literature. The great master genius, Shakespeare, here utters some of his loftiest sentiments. Wit and Satire.— Treasures are drawn from the most celebrated humorists of the world" and the wit of nations and ages is gathered here to interest and entertain those who peruse the pages of Beautiful Gems of Thought and Sentiment. This part of the work is exceedingly varied, rich, and attractive. ° -^ Masterpieces of ELOQUENCE.-These are all in prose, and are culled from the most famoui orations of the world s greatest orators, past and present. Here the loftiest and most thrilling sentiments are expressed in language the most beautiful and sublime. Music Vocal and Instrumental.-To further enhance the value of Beautiful Gems as a book for the home, a profuse variety of charming musical .selections has been added to its contents. These comprise the sweetest and the best of the popular productions, and all lovers 01 music will find them a source of exquisite pleasure and delight. I of valor and V- ! on the weird ;, enliven the r»',in8 of tho 1. -f I beauty, collection of servation are li great care, n preserved, motions, turn of the most 1 the inaster- nany others, inocence and lat have un- iderland, the pages every IS, stamping heart. ligious senti- all estimate, ound them, ing, Pliillips the world's and others. e'r inherent all readers, to be found sentiments, f the world, > peruse the exceedingly nost famous ost thrilling riFUL Gems idded to its d all lovers CONTENTS OF POETRY. THE FIRESIDE. Thu Holidays /;/,i„ Cuok No IIIm but What wo Make . . Chnrlen (httoii The Rose-Colored Globe WUIiatn Alea-omler Stout Christian Narues . . . .• . . C/inrlf^ hini/> The Seven Ages .... William Sha/mp,„,r To a Grandmother .... Jicnmnl Ihrtim Irrandpapa Maria Mulnch Craik Footsteps of Angels Henry WaJmorth Lom/fellow Joys of Home J„h„ Howri„ff Mother, Come Back E/iza Conic The Old Clock on the Stairs Ileiirn Waiisworth Lonafel/oio I lie Means to Attain Happy Life . Lord Sum;/ Music m the Home .... Alaric A. \Va/i., 1 he Only Daughter . . Oliver Wendell Hohncs Mowers in a Sick-Room Felicia Dorothea ffemaiiK I ho Island Hunting-Song . Oliver Wendell Ilolnu-n :\ ^''■'»'"« Nathaniel Parker Willis My (M Straw Hat Eliza Cook departed Days . . . Oliver Wendell IL,lme.i .Vnnie of Tharaw . Uenry Wad:iworlh Longfellow ' ''« ^'"i '^f^iJ Amelia B. Well,,/ •Mother Margery .... George S. Burleigh Nngs of Chri.stmas CrUa Logan _\\ lUting by the (Jate . William Cnllen Bri/ant liniosCure AlVtitiontoTime . . Bn/an Waller l^'octe'r IheEndof the Play William Makepeace Thackeray Old Dobbin £1^ c^^j^ L' iider the Mistletoe The Eden of Repose . . . Edgar Allen Poe Love s Home Laman Blnnchard Maternal W . . Marchioness De Spadara Bndal Ballad Edgar Allen Poe riio Fireside ffenry Wadnvorth Lonafelhtv bet the Cloth be White. . . . Will Carleton JVomansVo.ee Edmn Arnold n ?J' '" P'^oi-'ler liobert Herrie.k H.rthday Verses . . . Nathaniel Parker mili, rrS\?'"'"T. Alfred Tennyson I he Bachelor s Dream . 'Hie Grandfather's Stick .' .' .' .' kliza Cook A Mother s Love . . Felicia Dorothea Heman,, ThlT^'i,- ^ ■ ^ ■ ■ ■ ^- ^^^'^^ter Norris Ihe Traveller Away Prom Home ri- /\ /Mj «, . ^ Oliver GoUismith If Our Old Clock Could Speak . Will Carktan Pat.k 17 17 18 IS IS IS 18 ly ii» 19 20 20 20 21 21 0'> The Prime of Life .... Walter Lmr,,ed ;,, 7 ^^1'"' , Oliver Wendell Holmes Ihe Mimeyk-sH Man . . , ne„„, T. Stanton hong ol till! Dying Old Man to his Young Wife ,,.,., . Eliza Cook ? !; M'T""" '/'■'"•.'/ Eirke White ally rritts . .... Oliver Wendell Holmes ,. Dreamin Home 4j ,'',''"1 f '"her's Cottage . . .' Charier G. Leland I o My Mother Edgar Allen Poe hvening . ..... Olive,- Wendell Holmes 1 lie Keaper and the Flowers ™, „ , ,. , , ■'/'*'":'/ Wadjiioorth Longfellow The Soldier s Dream . . . Thonias r„,„,Ml the Dorchester (Jiant. . Oliver Wen,Ml Holmes rhc Quiet Mind Hohe,-t Greene J he Old Barn Eliza Cook Ketlections of a Proud Pedestrian ,„, „ , Oliver Wendell Holmes Ine farmers House ™, „ , „ tt«nni Wadmorth Longfellow I he Lar y Home . . Oliver Wendell Holmes I he Welcome Back Eliz>i Cook l^^'^'\r Edgar Allen Poe Ine Hair- Pin y o Aide, A Grandsire's Dream '^''*^ ^"'^''ct ' Samuel Woodwort'h 38 39 39 40 40 41 41 42 42 42 43 43 43 44 2f) 27 28 28 28 28 29 29 29 30 30 30 31 32 32 33 33 44 4;) 45 4.') 40 47 47 IN NATURE. SCENES Evening on the River Heifr,/ Wuhworth Longfellow John Greenleaf Whittier William Hoimtt . Maria Vpham Drake Ralph Waldo Emersim William Wetmore Ston/ Nathaniel Parker Willis • . James BncJchim • • ■ Coales Kinney • • James Thomson The Early Spring The Wind in a Frolic The First Robin . . The Rhodora . . The Violet . . . Dawn In Winter Twilight . Rain on the Roof . Morning Pleasures . The Black Canon . The Sun upon the Weirdlaw Hill !,.,.„ Sir Walter Scott Birds m Summer Man/ Howitt To a Nightingale . . . William Drnmviond Ode to the Cuckoo Ma Logan lo Primroses Filled with Morning Dew . ^ „ ^ • Robert Herrick ,.ru ?. P^'' Andrew Marvdl Whon Day Meets Night Charles W. Coleman. Jr. P'\f'"°^. John KM, An Early Primrose , . Henry Kirhe White (3) 4H 48 48 49 49 ':3 49 50 50 50 51 51 51 52 52 52 52 53 53 CONTENTS OF POETRY. Twiligbf . . . Thf Kolucd I.(-af Ijttrh Kiiliiiiu . Aiitiiiiiti LouvuM Storm at NiKht l>AI.K Herman Mrrknk (t'A , Al/ri-it Tmiii/iion 54 , Sir Wollir Scott S4 . fJeiirt/r (^iiiyprr 54 Liiril /ii/roii 54 55 To Diiffodils Iiiili,-rt Ihrrkic Ttio (?rovc Ahnihinii Cnirlr!/ NiK'"' ill New OrlcaiiH . Mar;/ .Uhln/ Tdininvnil 55 SiiiiK to th(! Violet . . ,/tiiiiix Rim.iill Laiirll 55 Tlic K veiling Star Ilrnn/ WdiLtintrlli /jiiiii/frlhnn 5(i Apiil Nittlumiil I'lirhr W'illin 5(1 At tlic Hrooknido /iilinii S/inl/crtiiis 5(1 Tilt! Kiiiiiy Duy . I/enn/ WiuUunrth LiiiKjfiUmr 57 Tlu' Child on the Beaeh . IIuiiikiIi Hikjh (laiild 57 'riic IIuiittT'.s Soiin ■"«" It i.s not Always May Ifrniy Wdfhwortli Luiif/filloir 5.S The Ijil'c'-Boat TIuidkik Mimir 5.S Moonlight on the Hudson Charles Ftiiiiii IldffnuiH 58 Son^.' ol the Ileinpseed KIta Cixi/c 5',) To the llninbli'-Bi'c . . lialjih Wnhlti Kintrmn Tho Siiani.~h Heidhnian Henry Wadmorth Loiir/frlliiw To the Kvcninjr Star . . TIkhiihk ('iiiiii)lifll Kveninfr in the Alp-s . . . ./■niir.i Mniitf/nnifr!/ The Dove .... Natkaiwl I'tiihn- Willi's The Tiion and Giraffe . . . TIihiikih I'n'ni/lf .Mysterions Mu.sie of Ocean . . /''. S. Erhinl l.iike Krio Kjiliriiiiii I'talniihi The Birth of Thunder . . . W. J. S,i,lli„(i The Anjrlcr /"/(// ChalkhiU The Angler's Trysting-Trce Thomnx Tiiil SloMirl Afar in the T>psert .... Tlmmux PriiiijU- The Son;.' ol' the Prairie . . . /. A'. Mitvhill To the Magnolia Thmmis Wind To the Fire-Fly Thomas Moore. The Farmer's Herds Ili'iir/i Wiiiltirorth Loni/fcllinv fid The Green Ijinnct . . . William Wnrdsworlh (>1 The Ivy IIi'ur;i Burton Woodland Streams Frances Jiroum The Hain Laura A. Boies The Wayside Sin-ing T/nmias Biuhanan Read Fair Weather an4 f)4 0.") 0(1 m fit! The Pleasure Bout . Windless Kain . , The Useful Plough Trout Fishing /nnns Thtiiitsnii Deserted. . . . Richard Kendall Miinkittriik The Grasshopper and Crieket . . . Leiijh Hunt The'Voice of the (Jra.ss . . . . Sarah Rnlierls Sinnise on the Hills Henri/ Wadsicnrlli l^iiiii/felliiir Tiie Karly Bluehird Li/dia Hnutln/ Sii/imme;/ Miiri/ li'iix.iill Mitford (Jayety of Nature . A Soothing Song . The Tiger . . . SoiuiL't on Night . Sunset . , , . Summer Night-Fall J/inilii/ Ciilriidi/e . . . Wiiliani niiike. . Jose/ih /{linii'ii White . Ale.riiiider Smilli . . . Ruhirl Loirell .Morning ....... Williiim Shal.is/inire To .Me the Worlds an Open Bo(.k lleiiri/e I'lehiiis Mnvris Night at Sea . . . Lililia /juiiilnii Mnelemi The Gray Nun . . . Viri/imH B. /lanison The Dying Swan Alfred Tennyson Xight Kdieanl Yniing What is Solitude? . Charles Feiniu Ifoffman To a Shower .... James William Miller Th • (^)iiestinn J'erey Bi/sshe Shellry Tl,.. ()wl Alfird Tenni/snn On the Billows Tlmmas Mmire Arbutus . . . Ililen Hunt .Jackson {II. H.) To the Driving Cloud llrnry iwers Th(' Language of 1' Sensitive I'lant . Lilii's of the Field SoliL' of the [{use The lee Jlountain Wiidsinielh l/iiiii/fi'lhiu) .lames Hates I'dcind . . I'ercy Bysshe Shelley John Kehle Elizidieth Barrett Jiroirnim/ J. C. Rocl-nell The Crieket William Cnir/n'r The Departure of the Swallow William llonill A Doiihtini.' Heart . . Adilaide Anne I'nieUr To a Mus(|uito Ediriiid Sunfnril A Gill Leading Her Blind Mother Tlirongli the Wood .... Xatlianiil I'urker Willis Hymn to the Night Hiiin/ Wadsirortli Loni/fellou- . .' . . . ./. r, Rmkirell Henn/ Wadsirorlh Long/'ellmr . . . Amelia B. Welhy IJinry Wadsnynlh Lunqfelline ./.nines Xack Afternoon in February Henn/ Wailsivorth Ijimnfellnw Autumn Tho '•'easons /^(v// Bir-she Shrlley An April Day . . Henn/ Wadswnr'h Loni/fellim- Od(! to the North-Kast Wind . (liarlis Kini/sley Spring .... Henry Wadsirorlh Lnnr/felloie 'J'he Cloud-Sl.ip .... S 7li 77 77 77 77 7H 7H "S 78 7H 7'J 7'J 7'.» 7'J 80 so SI M j;! S'J SM SI S.'i sr, sr, Sli ss S'J S'.l- S',) '.III 0(1 '.lit SM 91 •■I Paor India!) Summer . //<•»«/ \Vii(l»wiirih Ldiuj/iIIhw UI Til tlio .Moon . . . (i'. /'Jilinomhtoitiii: Aj/loiin 9'^ The Kridol'thi" Droutli 'J'i 'I'lii' Swisn .\lp . . ir. /Ciliiiiiiiilnfiiinii' Aiiliiiiii '.»:< 'I'll till' Kiiinbow Thoiiiiin ('iiiiiiihill ',i:i OsHiiin's .\il(lri'ss to tho Sun . JaiiK.i Mur/iliiiwiii '.ID The Merry I lean . . . Mnn/ liiixxll Mil/„rii 'J\ 'I'iie Krosl lliiiiiiiih Uttiifi (liiiild 'J4 Falling' Snow Mfrid I'lmrul (Ivavin 'i\ Aiituniii's Sijiliiiij.' . Thnnms Huchnintii lirnil 'A <)i.|(ilii.r Ali.niiiilif M' liiichliin '.1.5 Auliuun-'niiie . . I,iiiiiii U'";/irn M' ('.trtlii/ 'J') CalllIi.NotWee.Js 05 NARRATIVES IN SONG. ThoDoiroftlio Alp.s Klhi Vnok 9fi Koliin lIiMMJiinil Allen- A-I)iil.' % Till' Spiirrow lit Sea . . HILnhitli .\ hi- 1-» Allen 97 'Pile Krl-Kinv Thiniln,;- Mnrliti ',tS The Hrdimnl W'i/liiiiiixnn lOli Tlie Inilian's Hride . . Eilirnrd Cuntr Ifuhir;/ 103 Tlie liiuiriteil I'lilaw . . . h'llaiir Alli-ii I'o,' \(\i l{odiiey's Hide .... ICIIirnh/r .S'. nrimhs 104 The IJell'ry of Bruges Iletini Wiulmrttiih fjiiii(f/elli>w 105 KoryO'More ....... Eliza CnoL- \ Of, The Sheplicrd and the Dog Williom Wurdswortli 107 Teddy ()' Nellie Eliai Cwih- WH N'orwciriaii liOve-Sonc .... James WtdUer 108 Tile Spider and tho Fly 108 Tlie Trouliadour . . . Letitia Liindon Mnclean 10'.) Seeiie from .Maniiioii . . . Sir ]Y•■ f'iMt ,...." The Flower s ATahh , ' What is I.«vt> '' . . . The Jjast Heparatioii , As Fatitu fhe Hea KoKuline . . Fairest of Creation . Echo . .... ConMtane.v The Cane-Hotioiued Chuir f'aptivated . B 152 . . Prnncf» linmit 152 • . Rohrrt liroirniii'i I5;i • . Jiihii />n/i/,,i ]y,i Lord fji/Him 1 54 . ' St 1 1 II lid 1 1 liiijij 154 'htmr» UiinHill I.i,inll 154 Oliver Wntdill ll„lm,K 15(1 • ■ . T/wiiKm Moure 15(1 • ■ • />. M. Mnir I5« 15(1 'mi» h'linsell Loinl/ 157 170 170 170 //"(/•// A//7,v H7i/V,. 171 71 171 TlumiiiH CiiniiMI 171 //'■((/•)/ UiirniiHiit 172 Ali:riiii(/ir Siiillli 172 m Adversity L„rd Huron 151* ler Voice . . . u„i n /< / ■ ■ , When Thou Wort kigh" " ' ^''7'': ^''.'-'7 J','^' The Ma,d.s Lament . W.U.r S..r,,,J ,. ,,„ A Dream. -hmc. Thom.,,,, I,;, Toil ]„,!,. ■ ' ' ' r,' • ^'''•^'""''•'' *Hl(//j |()1 "NoTI ^,\r■ t; /^""r/e Oenison JWiiticr m No Thank iou, John" 67'i//(y.v Sarr/eiif Osr/uod 181 rhe Bloom Hath Fled Thy Ch^^k; M^^'' '^'"" ''' T !• ... ^h'lli'nnnmond 183 . _ Joaquin Miller William Shuhenimire By the River . . Faithful and Constant He.ster Little (Jolden-Hair's Story We'll Bo True to Each Other The Faithful Wife The Entrancing Mi.s.s 6'Dowd Sweeter Than Truth _ ■ Philip James Baily m Let Us Jx)ve One Another . . Charles Swniu 107 Elizabeth Barrett Broimim; 167 • . Frances Kimihle Butler 108 04 Charles Lamh 104 (lerdil Fay 165 Eliza Cook 165 • . . . 166 100 ; 64 1 1 L. -ve My Love Because He Loves Me Bryini Waller Procter 1 84 . Thomas KilM- Iferiei/ 184 • . . Charles S'lniin 184 TTnless I Change My Mind ' ^^"''"'' ""''''''' J'^f The Chieftjiin's Daughter C ' ' -' ' ' ^ ^ Thiiy Song Again A Maiden . . Cherry Ripe ,, . Daughter Gcorr/e I'erkinn Mnrrh H-i Fairest of the Rural Maids ^^ Loved Once lie Tender Passion Mary Will Smile . Th.' Force of Love .;irth. 1,:,!:,: , William Ciillen Bri/ant 185 William Ctiffonl 185 Abraham Cowlei/ 185 Oearge IWhn.i Morris 186 CONTKNTS OF POKTRY. fAoa Kim Mnlhiiwfll Ii'pH Willhi- /.ril, 111,1 IfiH ./'-/(/( S/rrliiii/ 1 1)8 'ill III H. T.rMt ItlO Vhiiier \\'il,;,.r lii'J Thniiiiin M,„„;, 170 Vham I ro ■() '0 1 71 r//,(,/,.y I);,//;. /yi/M/i,- siiiihfi Tliiiiiiiis Mitiii)' HiiXHrll l.n.nll 1/ Ki'rh, \Vh;i,< _ '>e Dri/den 179 • • . . 180 ((M Ifiilmm 180 /(■/(^ Oni/ooit 181 A"/'(/ /yi/w« 181 uy Motherwell 181 » Mimlith) 182 /"/"' Miltitn 1S2 ■'/.v'/y iiiini.1 IS2 '/(» bn/ilen ls;{ '"/(« Milton ls;i Diiiniinimd 183 V((Hi nw/.u/i 183 e Vi»/' Procter 184 Vy/*- ITerven 184 /•/('.« Sirnin 1S4 '•(V llirrirl; 1,S4 • . . . IS4 •'«,s- Miirrls 185 W( Bn/iint 185 '« Vl!ff„-d 185 'm rVnf/e// 185 m.v Morris 186 r/.,/,/„ /',«/,.. //,,//»„i„ 1st, I Tho Mynti.. Tlircad of Life . . . /,„„/ /<(/„.» -ik. Willi.iinCiill,;, liniaiU \m Th.' hilnnnm .... Olirn n'mMI llolmrM 'hh* Thtf Talo is OM .".,,1 The Widow's WiMMT , . . Hmimi (' Kmliiini •Ji{)\ Tlio llflllliuk Tri'C //.iKi/ ir.(i/*(((;/7A /ii,il,/f,ll,iir 2i»l liOVL" .>luk.'H II Cliange Mil.»r„,,l,,i •Z'^sS LiiK'« Hy II Clerk . . Olker ]y,,„l,ll /l„h„rM -^rj Our Vankoo (JirlH . . . 0/,V,c HV, <,/,// //„/»„v( 2i'-/ guc'i' Mary U.„r// Sliiurt /),ir>,l,„ [itn W hy HIT Vnii Wiuiil.TinK Hit.? . .Aj,/i« A'r (i«.i/ 2(tS Oil. Saw Yi! the l,asH? ' jo.'j Thomim Afiinre f /oiii/iiiii Mull r We Parted in .'^ndne^tx The Miiidt'iiH Sorrow Tn I'lliiiiru Willinm Uggflt 187 Your liuart ix u MunIc Box Friiiirin Siirf/nit OtgniHl 187 Where Fludnoii'.s Wave . (Irorii, I'lrkiim Morrin 187 'Tin Sttiil tliiit Alweiiee ('oii(|uerK Ijovi! Fnil.nH- ir Tliomn^ 187 The (}reen Idle of liOverH . . liol»,ri i' SuniU |SH The IV^liM •* niiUKhter . (/inrj/e I't L,.^ j'irri* I8H LoHt Feuliii . . himrn ',, . ...itn/ 1,S8 I l',ilrr i\ucter 188 | The Seeiited V-w^ Wlien Otii.r Frionds nTf liMtind Thee | The ^if, 205 Kroposal .... . . Bright, Hriffht Fediiima 1 Kiitv Miu-lnr.. v- ir ,# • ., .., ,,, ,,,. . ' i\in\ iiiaeiiirv •Sniniiif fjtinr M,in,ia hr,i,m < ruH.i,((,rorf,e Elwt) I H<» I Ixive's Sweet Memories \\l,yNot . . . ^/wr/,,,n//A.,uy/.SW./,/n/ |. to WoMian's Fidelity. . . Hr,i„„ WiU.r I'rortn- 'M IIk' DoorHtep . . Ldtimiid < luriiav Stedman W) l.,eiir Through the Meadow . . n'i/li.nn D. Il„inlh l-.I , The (JoiM« of .My IWde ' f''™!; ''^/""""'' //'""/ I'.M Mother. He's (JoiiiK Away. Lovely .vrant . . . ^l/Wt.tm tW,,/ litl ; a Spring I^ve-Song , . Eh IViiwe ol Little Women l«)2 | Watohinjc I Die for Thy Sweet Love 1".»3 | Nina to Rienzi' '.'.'.'. .A , // Look Out Upon the .*>tur8 '['i„. i^„vprs . ,.,,.,, Edwiird ('o,il,l'!,d:n,v I'y-', Love ami Fame .".'!' .l',,. An Iri.sh .Melody . . A/im /■V,„v«,r ,l/7;i/-Mi/ I , , |,„ve Hides \ Loudy Mary Donnelly . . Willinn, Allin,,lonn V-i j (Jj, I Had We Some BrishtLittle'lsl At the Church date | „ Willinm Mahipimr Th,i,hei;i,i 194 r,u not Myself at all Ffliciti l>„, ■i,,,i Hrmiiii.i 2tM'> IMen Sheritf^tii Dnfferiii 207 ... 2(17 , . S,iiii"' ■"//w 2()',t I''", In- i '„nf 2(l<.( ' I 'h mips 210 ''/■ S,-ott 21 I Dear lU'tty . . The Cirl of Cadiz The Spiiinimi-W'heel Sonjr The Milk->L,id's SoMK . The Milk-Muid'.s Mother's Th» Old Story . Wo- air.s Smile I'he Son/f (d'tlie Camp . . Nly Kyes ! How I Love You The Burial .... HEROISM AND FREti Aiiieriea Siimml Pri'iee Kujrene /„/,, (Uiiirhs Ihiiihiirii Williiim.s I 'J /lord /it/ron Hir) ./'.ath of Nelson , , Matthew Gregon/ Lewis Wi Kevoh.umary Heroes l^oves Philosophy. . . . y^ci/ iiy^Wif ^Vie/% 199 The Si tit Brave . \ hen Polly Goes By 199 Hack I, m the W;-- i)n John (, Our Own "< Moi'ie ■I Lo.et I T„„ti.r Sa.i. l-:il. ' !ll ill Ml JM. :n,ith ijhes II ;i il.'! Thoinaa Mnorc 21 ;i ie.1 Un tiiut Tear Rhhard Hrinslei/ Sheridan 200 , The B; My Native Isle Wo wiw on the Field of Battle Felicia Ihii-othcn Hem nin 214 Man Anthony's Charge . Ali.ninder N. Etw - 214 \ I' r of (iloves 2lti in Lnitation of Alc:eus Sir William Jones 216 • . . S. J. Amiilil 216 Olnir Wiinlil! ffolmes 217 . . Wlll.inii Cillins 217 L"ii' Morri- 217 LT of .'Murat Prosper M. Wetmore 217 CONTENTS OF POETRY. Anmiiiis iJnrwiii 21, S Eliza at the Battle of Minden Ihe Arsenal at SpriiiKfield The Spartan'. Marcf"'"' ^'^'l^'oorth Lon,fM„r ,,« ThoChovalier'.s J.a.ncnt'""" ^'"'f 7' "'T" -''' "" "'« «l.on..s orT..„nessee ^ AV t ^"T"' -'" (Wian Liberty "' ' • ^IW< ./ /^v'//< -'-'2 '''"■ VouMK Auieriean ; ■.lA.,,,,,;;. ^;//^^~« ^^2 : Paoi Indian Heroism . I Indian Death Song' " " 'f}j ^,>""' f^'»if<'r 'M i Loehiejs Warnine ' " ' t, ^'''"^'"" ■'/'"' »i 244 ! The Covenanter's JJattrChant' ' '^"^""' "'"'"" ~'' j Jfareo B„zzaris »/V/''/,„ Motherurll 245 ! ■ • • . ^rilz-Gnrnc ILillcck iH( SONGS OF SENTIMENT. T/iiiiiKin Moori' 223 '„/.V7' 224 '■'(i'a/( Knnirlis .'23 //,< '«"'/• ^fV-ffV) 22 Tl)e HaMiier.iftheSea AFoivedKecniitol'SoiCorir. TI.0 Fourth ofJ,.K, '^''"''"'"' ''':,'■'", '^r'"'"" --' <^'>'uc O'er the «ea, Maiden ' r! '^'T,"'" "^ 'o/v 227 Th.-(;u|:.,;,„ Thomas M, Hallowed (iround " ' ' ' ti ' "'•;/••''■'""■-■ -'28 .'X'!';'.!;::'; sf "'■" "7/.*":. .;/Mi»' s^ .Joe. . . ■'''■••. J'">in„.s CniijtM/ 2m Saxon (Jrit /'''"''' ^^'"''/"'n" 230 The Harp thaa)nceThrough 'n;..;^^^'''^^- ^^' Our Natal Diy ?'//.,«(,,., .)/„,„.,, 932 r-. I'ut no Flower;o„ My R.„;.^ <;^;^/'"'^""' ^'^^ ir^ ,.. . '^^^ '^' ^' ll'ilmix 233 ^/«'";'/ ^S'''""" 237 TheSon,:,'of the rAirje" *»""iiided . . ■ • • . . . . >;..hlimewasd,e\Varn,V ' " ''J;'"' ^^ Jf '''' 'i'vousMen ^ ,' • •, ^.-^t""""' ''^'""■'' TlH. Home of Freedom .'Slw n^';;^^"' -'' J'"' H^Utlo of Fontenoy ; '"'"' '^ilJ^'f:! -'^^ liie Sea Fi>'ht •''••. J 'tomas Om-is 241 Son^ofM^^ion'^Men" : imi,,,,: ,,,,■,},,.,;,„, ^ 235 23(1 23(; 23(1 237 23,S 23.S 231I .'3'.» i Clear the Way i An Arab Sayirnr ; Hoom Knou-h ibr All' '.','' I he .>I(.sseiii;er-r{ir/) Jl';-- », ■'■ K;;;;;i€,:;''s-"?''"-« '''"■"■•'■•'lViewofLi,r' "'''"""/"'•- "''/'"'•'' ^\I'oi.sMyXeighborV .' .' ' ' •, ,, , •. • A MansaMan Ibr-i' tl.nf ' " \- '- '^^-'Om The World "'"^ •,.„ • A'"'"'/ /^»n,.. The Reaper.' ' ' ' " '{'J:: J^ ''■''''■>- "'"W The Dav is Done " // ' ,,;',"^'""" "'"'A'-orM Onlya Word " '"" ""''■-•'"'/' /-"-/yW., The8phinx . ' ' ' n ,' , \,., ■ ■ ■ Seawee.l „ ' Tl" ^^ "''''■ /^n„'r,„„ TakeHaektheA'ir,^ 74 ''''"^''''l^^^'-^''''''''' I ('Icon and I '^ ' """""■' M"'>re I Heath the Leveller <'l""l<'< M,„'h-,n, I I'lireeognized ' ' ' ' ■;'"'""' Xlo'rh;,, 1 Life . ,, • ' '"'■" •/ l>n,t,m \ Old I^arn,:.r (;,,„|^. ' ' '"'""" "'''^'- J''Oct,'r I Hymn ofth,. ('ity^ ' ' \yn- ' /r „ • ' • Solace Toward the Sea ' " ^"""" ^''■"""' ' Together '''ff''-""» T/,,,./,., AV/„/„„,„ ; r^imitsofHun.anity ■ " ' ''':;;!''■ ■^''•''-'f'-h The Fountain ' ■ „.,/'""'';',''^ -'/'O//,, The W,.aver ' " u J'!"". " '"•''■^""'■'A The Crowd,.,! Str,x>'t ' irv/ '''' ^f'""'''>f"">i >^.t on the Battle ;lid •"'''''''' Vf^^''-' Address to the Mum,nyi„Bel.,ni'fS,d::,r" Iliiiiiri' Siiii'th Chiirhs M;cl.;n, ll'''iii A. Mnnnl'lo ■ Jiihii Flililirr ■ ■ Niin( l'',mH/r Lmuln 257 25H 258 25!) 2r',» 251) 2(i() 2(i() 20(1 262 263 263 263 264 264 f) r 2C4 Amir fTiiiiter 24,3 '• l''i'>thinf)htm 244 """.s ( '(imphill 244 Jdnicx H,/sl„p 24;-) ''/» Mofhn-icdl 24r) V;w;(,. Unllcclc 24(: MENT. '"'/■/'« Miifknji 247 • • • . '. 247 ■ • • • . 247 ''/'(V //miniix "4/ li; Hmii^I that /(''«.»• U',, //,!,;' 248 ', ', ■ • • -■''^ ^ • A! Ih-u/pn 248 'i'".V'/7 /;/()v/.v 24H 'irrlfi- Wilcx 240 Wiinhii-iirth 249 '( LittKjfi'lhnc 24(1 ■ ^- . . 2:ill '''" Kiiii'isdii 2.")() ' !''>ii• Miiikiiji 2,02 "(c.s Sliirlfi/ 2,02 ' •/. Ih'Dttm 2.5,'i '//!foir 264 'iimmU- '>6J ,, ,, ,, , I f^' """ ''"\~ Some Day , . ... . Jumfx \Vli!tamil> lilln/ -ytX At the .Mid Hour of Night . . Muni A. Fm-il ''W A \\ ile Wil/iiim Mliiiifhiiii) 269 A.-ihcs Willinm Wliitir 269 One Day at a Time IMeii I/iiiit Jiicksnii (II. //.) 269 Is Lile Worth liiviiii;? . . . . Alfinl Austin TA) A Heautit'ul 'I'houirht . Jlniiiiuh Moiv Koliiiim 270 Tlie Bird and tlie tSliip Uninj Wiulxirnrth Liiiiqfrllnin 271 The Best We Can .... Eben E. iiexford •Sl\ The Silver Lining . . Sailor's Soiii; . , . , The Sailor Hoy's Sister Genius Tho.xe We've Left Behind Fs . Thomnx Mnnre An Act of Kindne.ss . Thnmiis Noon Tn/foiinl Never I'ut Off The Sleeper Eih/nr Allfu I'oc The Oecultatiop of Orion Henry W'uliirorth Loiir/ffllow 274 The Old Wi,r 283 Willioni I), diilliiijher 284 '..•,• ■. • • -^-^ Willioni Shohvifpeiire 284 Kini/sley 285 Alirj' Can/ Francis f/itais foniniy's Dead >Si,lnr,/ /),MI 2XH From the Cottage to the Castle Thowo.i Moore 289 Be of tiood Cheer The Tired Wife .... Perl'i'i'tion Till' Two Maidens . . . A i)ri'am AV'ithin a Dream A Woman's Song . The .\rrow and fhe Song Henry Wadsworth LonafelloW 281 In the Shadows Pauline . Johnson 'IXX . . . . 281 . Josqihine Pollard 279 2S() Sarah Joaepha ffale 280 Edi/or Allen I'oe 280 . . Clement Scott 280 Only a Smile . Oh, (icntly Tou.-li i'm' Chords , John lioyle <>' Reilly 2S5 Amanda Shau- Eluefffr 285 '■"Id ov^c What is Good /ohn lioi/le ()' Reilli/ 2HI; Ilaste Not. Best Not Christopher Chrislion Co'.r 286 The Water-Drinkcr . . , . Edirard Johnson ^xn Ihe I'hllosopher'sSeaies /one Tai/lor 2H7 111 theDown-Ilillof Life . . . John Co'llins 2m Drink and Away Willimn Crosirell 2m 'l"o F '''I'''"'"'!'' Edi/or Allen I'oe 289 Beautiful World . . . J„hn Stuart lihiekie 290 Midnight Mass For the Dying Year Henry Wadsworth Limgfellov) 290 BALLADS AND LEGENDS. The Drum Douijhis Jerrold 291 The Beleaguered City Henrjl Wadsworth /jini/felhiw 291 The Captain's Well . John Greenleaf Whitticr 292 One Word 293 A .Mother's Daring /„/,„ /; Kicholls 294 The Jjaiuentation i'or Celin Jolin Ciltson Ijiirhhiirf 294 Three Loves .... Ijucy llomiltou llooiier 295 The Sea-Bird's Song. John Cardiner lirainard. 295 Beth-Gelert ; or, the Grave of the Greyhound Williani liohert Spencer 295 God's Judgment on a Wicked Bishop Roliiit Southey 296 Nathan Hale , 297 Kxiie of Erin Thomas CamfMI 298 The Dream of Hngene Aram . . Thomas Hood 298 The Virgin Mary's Bank Jeremiah Joseph Collanan ,300 Elsie's Child Inlia C R. Dorr [W The Fate of John Burgoyne . . . , . . , 303 \ Fable ,303 Affair of Honor 304 Siege of Savannah .....,.,. , ,304 The Pre.sent .\ge ,30ft Farewell to Thee. Araby's Daughter Thomas Moore 306 .Miigail Bi<'ker Amanda T. Jones ,306 Oh ! the Pleasant Days of Old Frauees Browne 308 Felicia Dorothea Jfemans 2'<2 Bosalielle ,S';> Walter Scott 309 ^^'[''^- ^ ...... . Charlotte Hronte. 282 ' The Wat<-!„r Sarah J.sipha Hair ,"f)9 A Woman's Question ^ Captain Paton's Lament John Gihson LorMart 310 Z,'/(i; Crippled For Lifb ' ' ' YiZ^r!^."'''''^^^ The Outlaw ' ' ' • • JohnF,^Ti,h^,i^^^. The Lecen.] nf k-„i ■ 1 ' " ' ' j"-^^ BJahe 342 On a Tear Thumns Hood S42 -.'le Legend of Kalooka ' tvi t - i -— » -^l- . . . ^ The Horse. ' ' ' '^^ ^IT"' "^'"^ ^'^ One by One " " ' /, / *"»'"'/ ^o^-^* 342 SirMarmaduko ' Vv,..' 'n'l ' , " ^""'^ ^20 The Oriirin of »U W ' ' ^''*'«"'^'^ ^l""<- /W/^r .343 ice liinnn/ Sai-q The Burial of ThVb;-"-"" '^'"'"^' '''• ^- ^''■"" ^ The PLsIier's Widow Decoration Day After "Taps 321 321 Koii 321 The Gift;orEmpty Hands'^"''"'' ^^-"'-' *"''""' •^-- 'ane The Ballad of Constan- The Old Canoe My Castle in Spain Down the Track . Orgia . . Henry Howard Brnivnell 3"3 '«e • ■ - William Winter 323 £miij/ li. Page. 324 . . John Hay 324 Romi H. Thorpe 325 Peace! \Vha;i; Tears A^-aill ^'''''''■'^'" ^''•'''«'''' 343 Our Travelled Parson ^'^"" "'''''''' ^^•'''^'^'- ^43 I "^aw From the Beach m,' " ' • ^44 The Grave . ffpu'.iirj J ymofi Moore :H!> Old . . . • ''^"'-^ ""'^V'^o/y/t Longfellow 345 Dirge . » 7', „. ^^^Ph Hoyt ,346 To-morrow ' ' ' • ^«'« Shaded " " ' ' ''^^ John and the S. quire MyOhnd""''''''"'''*'^"''^'^^^, A Farewell . Tl'c Blind Old Milton Ihe Disannninto<) Disappointed The Dead Jlariner POEMS. OF PATHOS. The Factory Bov y„.i^i n The Ship at Sea " " ^'"^^' ^« '•"'■•' '^Wc/io,, 328 The Child Musician ',• 'n', ' ^-^ The Soldier's Tear " ' Th ' ™'' ■^^^''«'''' 328 If ' » lear . . Thomas Ilajine, Hayly 328 > Lost on the Shore ' ' ' ' '^^">' ^^''j' ■'>''<>>'' ''!""'\^'lman-ii-> On the East Coast ''''"' •^"''" ^"' ^33 ' ' " 333 To a Child Our Little One ■ ""•' 334 Kriie Blind Hoy . The Mother'sSong For the Sake of I Little Helpers . r,,,. r ni i Tlie Pet Lamb . '"'"'"'e Gdman 336 ! Little Hell ' " • ^'"■''''';';-'^;'/'''' 33.) Ti.ei'ii^Mim . ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ • t/"''" '^':;'"' 340 , The Child-Bud ■ . Mary Bradley 340 \ In the Garden Margaret L. Baihy ,•«„ Ij^tle Willie ' '"'"' lI'OI 34U , Alice Fell 327 I Reaping . Thmias Moore The Beggar 349 • • • • .349 The May Queen 'au TT ^^^'*' 350 My Ship-My Captain ' ' " -^ ^e"mon 350 53 nmas Hood 353 • • • John Pierpont 353 . Marc Engene Conk 354 fAtzabeth Lloyd Hoirell 3.')4 Grandmo'ther's's'er.uon " "'''"''''^ ^^'""'■' 355 Dirge for a Young Girl bolitude 355 • Jame.1 T. Fields 356 >,••••.. 356 (^eorge D. Prentice 356 He Never Smiled Again The Last Look ^'"^'"" ^'^''"'"' ^^""'""-^ 334 Parson Kelly As a Beam Oer the Face of the Waters George Ji, ^tiirian Douglas HAPPY CHILDHOOD. Only Too Many oV We ^'^ea re A Child s Fairy Song . . William Allingham Ihe Castle m the Air . . . . Thomas J'aine Ariel's Songs .... Williani Shakespeare Henry Sylvester Com well ■ . . . Samuel Lover • . . l\ohirl Southeri ■ . . Anna M, Ford ■ . . . Thomas Hood . . Charles G. Leland The Sunset City . The Haunted Spring The Magic Thread.' Fairy Frost Fair . The Water Lady . The Water Fay 387 387 387 »88 389 392 392 392 393 393 394 394 394 395 395 395 390 396 390 397. 397 398 398 398 POEMS OF RELIGION. Some Time May Riley Smith Alvah Liflie Frishie John Mason Neale Miiiol Juilson Savage . . . Fhirhe Cary . . Denis Wortman . Margaret Davidson Adelaide Anne, Procter A Little Wheedler , 3^1 . . >S'. Walter iVorris 381 • ■ ^ 381 . William Word 4112 4(12 403 403 403 404 404 404 405 405 405 400 4m 40, Tl.cE:iofKi:,Xid- • ••^"^'"^■^^'•"408 Hle^od Are They TlmtMin ' ''""""•''"'" ^" A.ne..thoMaH;r- " ^'■''' ''"'-''^J^ ^f^l^l'^xl 4^2 rin-. Life i.s What We Make it" ' ^^''^ ^'^'"■'•".'/ 4J2 iJavid s Grief For His Child "^'"^ I Can Trust . ^'"thumel Parker H7///, 4i;i The Sacrifice of Abralmm '"4, «od's Acre /A. ^^;{^";"'''' /''"-/'W "V//,:, 41,-. ^ ^i.i>r o„ the Cloud '^'''^^''£r;:f,^''t^^^^^^ My Mother'.s Bible" " ' A ' Jf ''T'"^^'' ^ '"'"''• 4'" A Doubtin,- He "rt " ' fr,"- /"'"'" '^''"-»' ^i l>yi..« Wor^s of a Little \lt^"'""'' ^'""'' ^^''-'^ ■»> Triumphant Faith ^'^".W> ».«,■/ P„,„y, 4, 7 More Than We Ask ' ' " ■,V''";' "'"'"""" 41 « C'hri,stuia.sCaror. ' " ' ^J'":'- ^V^'«,..s- 419 . Strength For To-Day " ' ' ' ^ '""'i« ^'•""/.•.^ 419 A Day to Come ' ' j> 419 He Leads (Js On " ' " " ^'"■»""'^' "'^ ^"'■>-^t,m 419 , In the Dark. ^ 42(t Not Dead :;, ^"""n/f Arunhl 4->o ■ Nothing .0 Give " " " ' ^'7/' ^^'W^/'m/,/,- 4l'() , All's Well ' ' TT ' ■' /-•'"■"■' Thnnilon 421 •"'^rni.htisRight/si^rSttr'"'''''''''^^' •'Father, Take Mv \uJ'''^''"'' !!''"'"'" ^"^"'^ ^21 T|.e (Gracious An'svJr"' ' ' ';"n>^r,>ff;42^ The Hebrew 3Iother *'/• • ' r, ," '^ ^"'''' ^-- It Shall be Well " """ ^^"''"""'" ''''"'""■* 422 Tlie Necklace of Pearls " ' " ' ^'"''''' -'^"'•™ 423 A La«t Good-Night^""' ^t7-' f""'f'""" Tf Wo Knew ' " ' '^"^''"' '' ''»'''""<'/'' IW.ind the Smiling and iheWeepiMi; " ' ' ' Praying For Shoe.s n„, //'"'"';"' ii'"""' r.. the Mist . ,S>no, ]V, ''"'''""'""'' //'"//"■ 42,0 The Heavenly Jeru:2„!' ""'"'" ^^ ^ -''''^'0 42,5 When All Thy Mercies, My "(Jod ^'^ How to Live '(""■'■'"'' •'"'"'«"» 42r. Wait and Work ''orotSm lioiinr 427 ;;i.c Mystical Body ■„ ...v^;. /,,,,,;, J;!; Goin^Home' " ' ^"'■'*""" ^^'"•^'«« A'o..v^r<- 429 i Jacobs Ladder . nillimn AJoxniider 430 PERSONAL POEMS. Going Home ... TheKeturnofthe Dead. 4oy Eihfi Dean Procter 430 j To .Mark Twain on His Fiftierh Birthday , John Howard I'ayne . '"'''■'■ "'C^'' «'/-- iJoI'-iHuwardlVne. ' ' .l,,,], n r t" j ^.'ithaniel Hawthorne ' ''-^'"''•'^ ^'"''^ I 0-Ie to Washington ''""'' "''"'"'■"'■'^' ^""'«^""' *;''o>-t'e\V,,shin.to,;''''''' '^"'"''' ^""'''■'"" '^''"'■/'•'"" ;:Sr;Sh::;j?si:^i.j--';-'-«^.. lo Henry Wadsworth Longfellow' ^''"" ^--"/'• Fitz-Greene Halleck / i'"T ^^r"'" ^'""■''" Abrahan, Lin,o|,, "^ ' ''"'"' ^"■'""W- ^it,;.,. Columbus ■ ■ ' ;-,.■, -'""' 7"".'//"/- I'ouis Agas,siz " ■ ■ ' ■ '^1'' Aiifin-,/ Z),.]',.,.^ Tothellev.John'Pie'rpont" " •^"""■'' ^' ^'"'''^ T>am-el \A-el,,,ter ™"nrM.„ /i,,,anf Tlu. Lovely No,,h Star" ^'""■'' "-''"'' /A'/-.. Character of Lord Ch'itliu,.' ' ■'^'' '>'''''' ^-'''-'r On Dr. John.so„ '" ' "''''"'" • Monody on ,l,e Dea h SI, •, ' ^\""" ""''""•'■ , John .Milton "' '^''7"!«;.' <-'•'/ «'/'•"» i John Milton ^y'Himn Wordw-oifh Oil 'f is Blindness Tim,,,,, (,',■„„ Wickliffe's Dn.st . ' ■ '"''" J'''''''"' To Shakespeare ' r'r '. ' ' " • John Wiekliffe " ' ' ' „>•;/• 7{ ('"^'''^''if/e Kobert Burns ' ' ' ' "'/'""" ^yon/.m;,rt/i Kobby Burns ^ ''"';- (''>mie Ifa/M,- To the Shade of Burns " -^'"'^''i^' fV"«^»W Robert Fmmet ' ' ^^"^'""^ *'">/' Marshal Mnrit Thnmux Mnnre To the Lord-GenerarCrom'weil " ' fp^ {)";'>'> At the Grave of Keats r/,,!, / ■'f"l»iM'h„„ S--.-VanetS:~^^ The Kece,Hion"of the Poet WordsS:to;;:;if I>avidGarrick Th,n,H,,J,,,,,, r„lf„„r,i , To \\'ordsworth ,'?'";7 <^y''l-^^»!'h \ Hester //"/V/*?/ <'nl,'r!,f,/. From "Lines on ihe" Death of Hogg'^' "'"' ^'"'"' Doctor Arnold '^^'''V'urQ/,,,-,,-,// /„,,,,, The Dea.l Cz., Xi,i,;,H, ' J/ .■''"/;^;'"/l'-""/'^ The King's Ride / 7;' ''^"''"■^- ^''"'^ From "The mIIL/,,.;,/;::?;^;""^'"" /A'"/>'v X«(/( 43'J "■f Monre 439 •'/ /*///•'<« 439 ;/ -V/Z/o/) 440 » (\(iiich 440 rrorth 4411 I'oiriiiiif/ 440 ' J////r>» 441 A nil, 1,1 441 Oxford ""l/ciinl 441 himii'tli 44 f '>l)rl
  • Jelly Was a Lady '. 446 446 44t') 447 44,s 44S 44,s 44',i 44'.i ."^hoes . Iliniiicx Hdi/li/ 449 449 4,')0 4,'')() 4,^)1 4.M 4.-) I 4,31 4,^2 4;-)2 4,52 4,52 453 453 453 453 4.54 4.54 4,54 455 455 455 455 456 456 456 457 457 457 457 4,5V 4,58 45,H 45S 459 459 459 459 460 460 Park TJnele Sam's Farm 460 Blue .\lsatian Mountains 461 .Marsfilles Hymn 401 Bay of Biscay 461 Antiie Ijaurie 462 Lilly Dale 462 Wait For tlic Wagon 462 I >own in the Coal .Mine . . . ./. li. (i''J Quarrel of JJrutus and Cassiiis William Shal:iyj)(an_' 471 Interview of Haila A Great Inveiuion 480 Biddy an' Titn Flareuee E. Pratt 4sb Little Billee . . William Maiiepeaee Thael.-erai/ 4SI .\ Matriinotiial Duet . Matthvv (Iregnni Leu-is 481 Cupid's Arrow 4s | The Farmer and the Counsellor 4S1 A Billet Doux 482 After the New Year 482 A Legal Question 4^.) Nothing to Wear . . . Williom. Allen Hutler 483 In V u CONTENTS OF POETRY. Pace Samuel Lover 486 The Devil '*«• Jilted . . ; ; •„,• • • • • 498 ««rnoy O'Linn and the Leeches ^'""""' "^"^^ T. The Blarney Why Don't the Men Propose? Too I^te Thomas Jfaj/ties Bayly 486 A .So„« of the Unattainable :'''"^^"^'' ^"^'«« ^^'l {{^'"y «nd theS:;; ^^'"^'•''''^Mi*^ Myrtle? 487 Jly Daughter George' W Cahie <}ood-Night "''"""'T f;^"'-'^ ^-^d 4«7 Ba E' S"' ^"""" ' ' ^'-'^^" -";-'•' 500 DoctorTom ^"'^'^'"'^ '^•- ^"i/^^ 487 Tautologioul ■ 'lohn FMey '.m The Chemist' to His Love 488 | Mournlhl T«l„ „V „" r.:. J. ,V..-. ■^':''-'' A- G-^-.w, 501 499 500 500 4881 Felir A"" irnlulTaleofaCatandChlon.fbnn I'SCl::!; '^^Si:^ .^^-'^ ^-'- j-l The Tali Gentleman to His Lady J^f "^'^'"^ Z Slaying the Deer . . c„, ; ^ The Empire Gown Smnvd Lover m She Showed Him Stars .' f?? Advice to Landscape Painte'rs ." ." 'john YawL'ob Strauss Charles F. Ail 491 Wolcot 491 The Glorious Fourth '. " ' " ' "^'^'""^ ^'^^ ^''''^ Grapes SongbyRogero ' ' " ' n ' ' ^' •.• 492 " Lead ville Jim The Pessimistic Philosopher " ^^'"'^^ ^""'""^ 492 Pn.^Icd . . , Putting Up 0' the Stove 493 A Simple Sign . . . Th|^ Kankakee or the Kokomo' 'Louu^ ^rnson Z I '^-"°"^?''''".^"'i tragedy The Editorial Three : ' " ' ^K'^TT T Enienni o ' ' ■ ^' -^ Ilendee 495 LaTo-Dee " " " '^-'-^ ^'"-'/W (^W,. 495 The Noble Stranger " "" ^''^' 495 j What One Roy Thinks Harriet A- "» o"'f' "1 '^'^^ Bacon and Greens 496 A Foolish LittLMayen""'' ^"'^''" '^^"•^-'^ '^''^ — - . - - .,..,_ • • • ^- . . . . 510 Thomas Hood 51 1 511 The Mos.,ui.; Hunt ' " ''""'"'' ^"''^'' '^' Barney O'Hea . J ' ; ,• • ^'^^ Tragic Fate of Mn.; Caudle' " " *^'"""«^ ^'»'^'- fM John Day . ' " m, ' ' • ■ ^04 A Call Wanted, ." .' ' ^e.- >„;„!I"'"7 ('""' '^'^■^ /tey. Jonathan Lookout 505 506 ■ • . W. W. Finh 506 vl«>i(e Trumhull Slosson 507 507 HowCc^^p-Hmerica ■.HC.Dod.eZ Why Ben Schneider Decided For Prohibition ' " ^"'^ Vira Hoph'us 508 The Inventor's Wife 1, „ ■ 496 Hans and Fritz . 7 : ' ' £,•£ J ?"'"" "'' Widow Malone. ' ' * " ^'^'^'jfF-Aaamsm J-'ighine t'rtartwZever 498 498 A Serenade "We All Like Sheep' A Bit of Shopping For the Country '. ,, , Vas Marnage a Failure " ChJrles F Adams Sli I i Pao* ,•••■• 498 'toard Youtiff 499 499 ■ • . . . 500 Ve W. C,/»»/ IIW«/,t 515 I lie Soiin'o of I'arty Wisdom J,n,„s A. (;„r/i,/,f 515 n.'atli of Na[K,l,.on . . . Ui//;,nn II. Snninf lAC, rriie (.nindtMir of .N'atioiis . . r/,„/-/« S„uu,.r 51(1 U'lSSItmicsof 1,S4U . . . . Il„-„rr (l,r,l,-„ -A- iNo Extension of Freedom by Force Ki'ri'idii JohiiHoii 517 Paqii .\'."'*'/' • Thomm Cnhih 512-.) \yo,k True I'nlitciies.s . . Italy H.vcciKidii oCJoaii of .Vn .\t tlic La-t .Napoli'uii at St. Helena Hooks Iluinility Jiihu Ix'iiskin 529 Linl ( '/idtliiim 529 Chdvlin Dicknis 529 Thimian DiQuiuai 530 l7<7o;' llniio 530 Tliniii,i.i Carhile 531 WIIIkiiu Elhru (Uiinivwff 531 • . W'lxlii'uf/tou Alfilou 531 Improvement of tlie West . Invidi(nis DLstinctions . . Tlie " Mayflower " ... Genoa in Her Beauty . . Kffect of St Invective of Hungary | 1|' /;,„,/ r,„., Means of Health Ih.n,,; M,,,,,, 52,^ Sorrow for the Dead . . . Wu.hi,,,,!,,,, In-iu,, :,•>:'. I)ress Reform 'I'. IhW;/, T„/u,in,,r,i>4 n hen A\ ar Shall be no More . Tm-rli/.m F,l„r :>■'; Irue Patriotisn, M,ri,l„n,i IJumh, 525 A Manellous Cl,)ek . . r>//nr l(7„, /,////„/„„« .525 .Men \\ ho Never Die . . . Flinn-.l Knr.'it IvK, Stopping the March of Freedom Tln-uilnr,' /',„■/,■,,■ ;-,•"■, Invective in the " Wilkinson Tiial ' ,,, „ ,, „ Sin-fieiit S. JWiiflss 52f) 10 Hahot-Box .... F/„.i,, a C7,„y;/„ 52.; Danger o Vast Fortunes . . . /I,.r„re M„„r, ^27 Hie \\ Olid of Beauty Around lis llomrr Maim 5"7 Society Without .Morality . . r,,„„an lieechn- 5-7 Uetting the Hight Start Joal.,], (lUheri Ilolhuil 5-S ■>• "'".'kc; .... Fidpli \\'„/,l„ Kmersou r>-2S l-ompaiiionship With Children Natliiiiiirl Uaiiihorm 529 I ortrait ot a Dutchman . . \y„sh;u;,tn„ /rvlnr/ r,M .\ (.ood Daughter . . .;„/,„ (,'„r/,i,„i Pulfmi 532 ^liaraeter of .Major Andiv Ali'xamlir llmniltm 532 I ;,,,",; '"■''• rhorli>/l,Cu,h,u.n, 5,33 ! ''','■. .'';'■" /lorar, Jh,,hnrll h:U i^''" ■'";';,""■'■ ■ ■ • . R"!,ih ]Val,lo Knm-m, 53.-J ! -Apiieal l„r Queen Caroline . /,ord li,;,u,,hi,m ,533 Ketnrn oi Culunil.us . IIV///,,,// ///,•/.///(,/ rmcuii 534 ■utility orHtlniis to Stay Hetorn, Sii.ii,,.,, Smith 534 I lea of SerLieanI Biizfuz. in ■• Bardell Versus ,,. . '''':'\""''^ <'l>"rlr. Dirkeu, r,35 iialof Warn,, Hastings . . Li„d Mmiudin/ hM< leroration in the Oration Against Warren Hast- ,, ."'*-'',•. Fhinnid liurk,' ,5.3(1 niyeisalityofConseieiice . . T/iomos t^dnirr, 5,37 >n I arlianieniary Heionn . ('/im-lrs .l„m-'s For. 537 Demand for Jii.stice to Ireland l)„i,;,l (r (!,„indl 537 Mence from the Charg,. of Tyranny RoI.espierre. 538 I lie ( rater ,d \ esmius . . Uorocf B. Wallace 538 (ritlu.lMiMeral of Henrietta . . . . H.muet t^Zt n lereisthe Kneniy? . . /,,/,//„ .)/,„.,•„ ^,y„y,^ g^,, .John Davenports Influence Cjion New Haven ... Lroniird liacon 539 Ti''"',r"I,l-''"."'' ff'-'in, (irotlan rAi> I he Hiiial Districts Our Country's Strength , .,, , , Siimiirl Kxecutive Clemency . . . Ihurii Word Beeche.r bAZ Danger..! Miliiary Supremacy . . //«,/■,/ ttW .543 Inju.sticu the Cause id' National Huin ,,,, ,,. . Tht'udore I'lirkrr 543 I lie rirst .American Congress Invective Against JIH( Grafulla's Favorite Waltz 648 ('>U2 Attack Galop . . . , . . 6C0 004! ■3 4 '; U VAoa . 608 . 609 , 610 . 612 . 614 , 616 , 618 620 , 622 , 624 , 626 627 628 630 682 638 636 638 640 642 044 G46 648 650 llH Si ! I i 'LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM' Behutip ^l Getvts OF Thought ^ Sentiment. The Fireside. THE HOLIDAVS. NCK iij;ain, ouch jipain, Christuius wreuths arc twining : Once again, once again, Mistletoe is sliining. Tiuji! is inarching' through tho land, Pffked wii!. leaf and berry ; He leads the Old Year in his hand, But both tho churls are merry. He speakoth in the clanging bells, lie i^houts at every porta! ; Cioil .speed the tidings that he tells— "Good-will and peace to mortal." (i I. idly welcome shall he be, Kvcn though he traces 8ilve. threads upon our heads And wrinkles on imr facca IIJI For once again, once ajrain. He brings the happy meeting; licMce cynic lips may preach in vain That life is sad and fleeting. 'A Christmas logs should beacon back The wanderer from his roving ; .'(Cave, oh 1 leave the world's wide track, And join the loved and loving. s^pirits that have dwelt apart, Cold with pride and folly. Bring olive in your hand and heart To we&ve with Christmas hoiiy. Kl.I/.A COOK. NO ILLS BUT WHAT WE MAKE IIKRK are no ills but what we make By giving shapes and names to thiii^ Which is the dangerous mistake That oitises all our sufferings. O fruit fill grief, the world's disease I And vainer man, to make it so, Who gives his miseries increase, By cultivating his own woe ! We call that sickness which is health That persecution which is grace. That poverty which is true wealth, And that dishonor which is praiti-. Alius ! our time is here so ,'w, Judiciously dis(rilmliii»r itis hcaiiis, And flushing theiu with beauty as they go. Beneath its charms dull Hpiiit« brighter grow And weary thoughtn give way to |.leasai.t dreams. WILLIAM ALKXANDKK .HTOUT. CHRISTIAN NAMES. r\ Christian world Mary th(< garland wears f uebecca sweetens on a Hebrew ear • Quakers top pun; I'ri.seilla are more' clear And the li^rht (Jaul by amorou.s Ninon swears Amonir the le.ss.'r lights how J.ucy shines ' \V hat air of fragr.inee Hosamond throws round • How like a hymn doth sweet (Vcilia .sound • (H Marthas ami of Abigails few lines Have brag,ire,I in verse. ( )»' earnest hou.sehold stuff hhould homely Joan be fashioned. Hut can lou Barbara resist, or Marian? And is not Clar.( for love excuse enough ? iet, by my tiiith in numbers, I jjrofess These all than Saxon Edith please me less. CHARLKS LAMB. THE SEVEN AGES. HLL the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players • rhey have their exit.^ and their entrances ; Aiid one man in his time plays many parta His acts being seven age.s. At first the infant ^^lewliiig and puking in the nurse's arms ■ And then, the whining school-boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creei)iiig like snail riiwillingly to school ; and then, the lover • Ni-'hing like furnace, with a woeful ballad ' Made U> us mistress' eyebrow. Then, a soldier , iMil of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard •'/•a ous in honor, sudden and (,uick in quarrel ' ."Peeking the bubble reputation ^'■nm the cannon's mouth : And then, the justice; 1 1 tair round belly, with go..d capon lined \\ ith eye.s .severe, and beard of formal cut, full ot wi.se .saws and modern instances • And so he plays bis part . The sixth age shifb Into the lean and nlippenNi pa.itnloon ! n Ith s,„vt;.rlrs on IIok,,, u,,,! ,„„„.1, „„ ^jj, . < liH yomhiul hose well Havod, a world to.. w,J.. I'or hi. shrunk .sh.u.k ; an.l Ms b^g manly vo,, , I urmng avail, i.nvard ch.l . livble, pipe, ' And whistles in his sound (.ist seem- of all Hiut .lids Ibis sMange eventful history U second lihildishn.ss and mere oblivion ■ Sang teeth, suns .'yes, mm tast<>, san^ -verytljn.i. WILLIAM (tllABKSPICAnU. TO A ORANDMOTHER. "OI.U^,. u,|„rk »n.l M.ih.n.|y,"_OMm @H. say not so! A bright old age is thin.-, aim as the g,.ntle light of sunim..r ev..H Me twihghi ,|in, her .iiisky niantie w.muvs • l.e.'ail.setotheeisgiv..n. ill thv .Lvline A heart tliat .Iocs n..t tbankl.wlv ivpine At aiiLdit of which the hand ..f (;,„1 bereaves. J et all )i.. s.'n.ls with gratitude ree.>iv..s May.> vha.iuiet, thankful clo>e be mine ' And hence thy fin'sid.. ..hair app.'ars to me A pea.,-eful throm-w I, ,l,ou wert fornie.i to fill iliy eliil.iren mini>t,is who do thy will • And tlio.s.. grandAPA'S hair is very white. And gran.lpapa walks but sl.iw ; He likes to sit still in bis ea.sy -chair, While the chil.livn .•ome and go, ' '' Hush !— play .iiiietly." says mamma : ' hat nobody trouble dear gran.lpajia." Grandpapa's hand is thin and weak. It has w.iike.l hard all his davs : ' A stnu.g right hand, and .an hon.-st hand, u jr . "* ^"" "" '''""' '"«"'■■* praise ^^ Kiss it tenderly," says mamma : " liCt every one honor graMdi)ai)a." Gran.lpapa's eyes are growing dim : Tli..y have l.)oke.I on sorrow and death ; But the love-hght never went out of them N.ir the courage and the faith " Y.)u children, all of you," .says mamma, Have need to look up to dear grandpaj>a. " Grandpapa's years are wearinsr f.'w, But ho leave.* a blessing behind— A good lif.. liv..,i, and a good fight fou-hr ^ Irue lieart and ei|ual mind. ^'Remember my children." says mamma, lou bear the name of your grandpapa." MARIA MITLOCH C£AIX. i i loon ! I'll on si(Jt< Drill Urn m,'i' i.H thine, ' HIUIIIIKT CVHH ■ nmiitli' wiMivi'M ; I lliy ili'i'iini!, ■ ivpino 'ihI biTiMives, '<'i'iv(-N. Ill' mint' ! 'ai'j* Id iih! 'iTt luriiiud to fill y will ; urnuiid thy knoo. tlu'l- :,'iiinw Mtill, KKNAKO IIARTON, ffhito, t slow ; ;i). uiuuiiua ; mlpapa. " weak, ays : DritMt hanJ, * praise I : X." dim : and death ; lut of them h. niaiiima, randpupa. " few, nd- ?ht fought iiiamuia, idiiapa." '-'L'J'JH CEAtS. THE FIRESIDE. 19 i 1 i FOOTSTEPS O/ ANOELS. «7 F^ Y>II KV file hoiiPH of day are niitiihcred, I X y -^'I'l 'III' voieoH .if the nixlit V )i Wiikf tin. Letter omil, that Hluiulmrod, To a holy, ealtii delight ; PIro the I'VeninK lumps are lighted, And, like p!!ant(ini.s prim and tall, ShadiiWH from tli.. fitful fire li^lit Dance upon the parlor wall ; Then the forms of the departed Mnter 'lie open dour ; The l)ti(, ,,.. die true-hearted. Come to visit me onee more : He, the young and Htronjf, who eherished N'olile longings for the strife, My the road side full and perished. Weary with the mareh of life ! They, the holy oncH and weakly, Who the cross of suffcrini,' liorc. Folded their pale hands su meekly, Spake with us on earth w< more ! And with theui the Iwing iMiauteous, Who unto my yoiuh was given. More than all things else tu love me. And is now a saint in heaven. With a slow and noiseless footstep. Conies that mcssenirer divine, Takes the vacant chair heside me. Lays her gentle hand in mine. And .she sits and gazes at mo A\ itli those deep and tender eyes. Like the stars, so still and .saint-like, liooking downward from the skies Uttered not, yet comprehended. Is the .spirit's voiceless jiraycr, Soft reliukes, in blessings ended. Breathing from her lips of air. 0, though oft depres.seil and lonely. All my fears arc laid ,a.side. If I liut remember only Such a.s these have lived and died ! lIK.NItV W,\USWOUTII LONGFELLOW. JOYS OF HOME. WJ-:ET arc the joys of home, Anil pure as sweet : for they, J"ike dews of morn and evening, come To wake and close the d.ay. The worlJ bath its delights. And its delusions, too ; But home to calmer blis.s invites. More tranijuil and more true. S The mountain flood is gtronjr. Hut fearful in its pride ; While gently rolls the stream along The |.eaceful Valley's side. * Life's charities, like light, Spread smilingly afar ; Hut stars approached, bi me mow briitht .Viid home is life's own star. The pilgrim's step in vain S.eks Kden's ntU'jvA gniiindl But in home's holy joys, again An Kden may be found. A glaneo of heaven to sec, To none on earth is iriven ; And yet a happy family Is but an earlier heaven. JOITN noWRINO, MOTHER, COME BACK! ^TNOTIIHH. coToe back ! .his is the cry \ T / .^^ '"'" ^"'"•' '■are pleasure tills liiy heart , U 1 ^» WItii liiiigbing joy lights up my eye, .\iiil iinfiulse wakes with eager start. I know tbim wouliLst exult to see The flush i,f sunshine on niy track ; And faithful miMnory clings to thee, \\'ith yearning words, " .Mother, come back ' Tidings, perchance, may reach my car, ('old, false, and bitter in their tone ; Till the low sigh and .stealing tear ^ Herst from a spirit, .sad atid lone. Then do I iiivalbe in a 'iits wilil ; ^ With heartstrings stretched on feeling's rack " 'I'liou who tlidst ever love thy child With ehangele.ss tnub, mother, come back I ' Faint languor shades my droopinfr face, .^ly pulses flutter, swil'tly weak ; The fading lily takes its place. And hides the rose-leaf on my cheek. Then do I call upon thy name. When stranger hands supjiort mv Iirow; My pinii- ; soul still asks the same— "Moibi.:', come back, 1 need tlier nowC When f iitune .sheds her fairest beani.H Thou art the mi.ssing one I crave ; I ask thee— when the whole world s.-eiuB As dark aiid cheerless as thy grave. I ask thee, with a dreamer's brain. For no, ah ! no, it cannot be ; Thou'lt never come to me again. But I will pray to go to thee ! KLIZA COOK. 20 BEAUTIFUL GEMS. THE OLD CLOCK ON THE STAIRS. 'OMKWIIAT back from (lie village street Stands the old-f'asliioiie 1 «mtitry-weiit. Across its atiti(iue i)ortic(i Tall puplar trees their sliailows throw ; And from its station in the hall An ancient timepiece says lo all : " Forever — never ! Never— forever ! ' ' Half-way up the stairs it stands, And points and heckons with its hands From its case of massive oak, Like a monk, who, under his cloak. Crosses himself, and sighs, alas ! With sorrowful voice to all who {)ass: "Forever — never ! Never — forever ! ' ' By (lay its voice is low and light ; But in the silent dead of night Distinct as a passing footstcii's fall, It echoes along tli(! vacant hall, Along the ceiling, along the floor, And seems to say at each chamhcr-door : " Forever — never ! N(n'er — fon'ver ! " Through days of sorrow and of mirth. Through days of death and days of birth, Through every swift vicissilud.' Of changeful time unchanged it has stood, And as if, like (!od, it all thing.s saw, It ailmly repeats those words of awe : " Forever — uvwr ! Never — forever!" In that mansion used to be Free-hearted Hospitality ; His great fires up the ciiimncy roared ; The stranger feasted at his board ; But, like the sk(>leton at the IL'ast, That warning timepiece never ceased : " Forever — never Never— forever ! ' There groujjs of merry children |ilayed. There youths and maidens ilreaniiiig strayed ; () precious hours ! O gcildcn prime. And affluence of love and time ! Even as a miser counts his gohl. Those iiours the ancient timepiece told : " For(!ver— never ! Never — forever !" from tliat chamber, clothed in white, fhe bride came forth on her we< low, The dead lay in his shroud of snow ; And in the hush that followed the prayer Was heard the old clock on the tlair : " Forever— inner ! Never— forever ! " All lire scattered now and fled, Some are married, .some are dead ; And wlh'ii I iwk, with throbs of piiin, "Ah ! when shall they all meet ayain ? " Ah in the days long since gone by. The ancient timepiece makes re,ily : "F(jrever — never ! Never— forever I" Never lien;, forever there. Where all parting, pain, and care, And death and time slndl disappear- Forever there, but never here ! The horologe of eternity Sayeth this incessantly : " Forever—never ! Never— forever !" IIKNHY WADSWORTII I.ONOFRM.OVV. THE MEANS TO ATTAIN HAPPY LIFE. ffi .\HTIA1,, the things that do attain The happy life lie the.se, I find- The riches left, not got with pain ; 'I'he fruitful ground, the quiet mia.i I he eijual fricTid ; no grudge, no strife ; No charge of rule, nor governance ; Without disca,se. the healthful life ; The household of contimiaiice. The mean diet, no delicate fare ; Tru(' wisdom joined wiih simpleness- The night discharged of ail care. Where wine the wit may not oppress. The faithful wife, without deflate; ^ Such sleeps as may begujlf the night; Contented with thine own estate. No wish for death, nor fear his might. I.OKD SUKRKV; MUSIC IN THE HOME. STKHIOUS keeper of the key That opes the gates of nicmoiT, Oft in thy wildest, simiilcst sirain, \\ e live o'er years of bli.ss again ! The sun-fjright hopes of early youth. Love, in it,s first deep hour oi' truth— And dreams of lil'e's delightful morn, Are on tfiy seraph-pinions borne ! To the enthusiast's heart thy tone Breathes of the lost,and lovely one. And caiis back moments, brief as dear When liust 'twas wafted on his ear. m' ifl the prsyer lio KUiir : I of pain, !ct imaiii ? " (! l>y. rciily : care, ijipcar — ! II I.ONOFEM.OW. APPY LIFE. ) attain T find— li |)ain ; unlet mind, o strilb ; lanco ; iCc ; lioness ; ){iprcs8. night ; niiRlit. I.OIMJ BUKKliY, flE. uy iiM-y, strain, in! THE FIRESIDE. 21 OMlll, mil— ninrn, J t lie ino, IS dear, iir. To gloom of sadness iliou eanst unit Tlie cliords iif thy dcliiMous Inte ; 1''or every heart thou liast ii tone, Canst uiakc its jmlses all thine own ! ALAKIC A. WATTS. JP THE ONLY DAUGHTER. ll.l.rsTKA'i'lON (IK A I'lCTIUK. (IKV hid me strike the idle strings, As if my suniinoi- day.s Had shaken snnhiiums fmiii th<'ir wings To warm my uittiimn la.v> ; They hiiiig to me their paiiiled urn, .\s if it were not time To lift my gauntlet and to spurn The lisls oi' hdvish '. hyuu! ; And, were it, not ihut I have still S(jni(! weakness in my heart Thai clings around my stronger will And pleads lor yenth'r art, I'erchance I liad not tiiriu'd away The thmights grewn tame with toil, To cheat this lone and pidlid ray, Thai wastes the luidnighl uil. Alas! with every year 1 feel Some ruses leave my hrnw ; Too young lor wisdom's lardy seal. Too old for garlai.ds now ; Vet whih^ the dewy lirealh of spring Steals o'er the tingling air. And sjireads and fans each emerald wing Tlu! fbr(\st soon shall wear, IJow hright the opeiiiiig year would seem, Flad I one look like thine. To meet me when the i ning heaiu Tiiseals these lids oi' mine ! Too lomr T hear lliis Imiely lot. That hid.s my liearl run wild To press the lips thai love me not, To clasp the stranger's child. How ofi hryoiid the dashing seas, .\iiiiilsl I hose roy.al liowcrs, W here danced the lilacs in the I.reezo, Ami .swung the cheslnul -flowers, I wandered like a wt'aried slave Whos(! morniiiL' ta-k is done. To watch tli(! little hands i hat, gave Their whileness to lh<' .'-un ; To revel in the hright young eye.s, Whoso lustre sparkled through The .sahlc iVim.'.' of soul hem skies Or gleamed in S.a\nn Mut' ! Mow oft I heard anolher's name ^ Calied ill .some truaiil's tone ; Sweet accents ! which f longed to claim, To learn and lisp my own ! Too soun the gentle hands, that pressed The rin.glets of the child, Are folded on the faithfid hreiist ^ Where first he hrealhed and siuiled ; Too oft iho clinging aims untwine, The nieliing lips forget, -\nd ilarkne.s.s veils the hridal shrine Where wreaths ami tcu-ches met ; If Heaven hut leaves a single thread ^ Of hop(\'s dissolving chain. Kven when her parting plumes are >prea'j It hid.s them fold again ; The cradle rocks heside the tomb ; ^ The cheek now chaiiL'cd niid chill Smiles on us in I he morniiiir liloom Of one that Lives us still. kSweet image ! I have d(uie lliee wrong To claim this dcs'.-ncd lay ; The liaf ihat aski'd an idle .song .^lust heal- my tears away. Y(!t. in ihy memory shoiild.st thou keep This else forgolli'ii strain. Till years have lauglil thine eyes to weej). And flattery's voice is vain ; O llieii, thou fledglimr of the nest, Ijike tilt' long-wandering dove. Thy weary lu'art may faint for rest, .Vs mine, on changcle» love ; And while the.se .sculpt ured lines retrace The hours now daiieing hy, This vision of thy girlish grace 3Iay cost thee, too, a sii;h. ill.lVKK WK.NDia.I, il()l..Mi:S FLOWERS IN A SICK-ROOM. B .A K ilieMi not from gras-y dells, Where wild hees have honey -cells : .Not from where sweet waler-siMinii the silent room ni' dciih ! Kindred lo the hreeze they are. .\nil the glow-wiu-m'.- emerald star, .\nd the liiril whose scuig is free. Ami the many whispering tree : ( 111 ! too deep a love, ami vain, They would win to eailh aL'ain I Spreail them not hefoie I he eyes <'lo.>ad for her who dies; i! '-■'. I J ' "lii ' li :l 22 BEAUTIFUI. GEMS. Jrom the lily's pearl-cup shed Dreams too sweet would liaunt her bed • i)ruauis uf youth-of sjtring-time eyes- iMusie— b(;auty— all she leaves ! Hush ! 'tis thou that druamintj art ; Calmer is her geiitlu heart. Yes ! o'er fountain, vah arid grove, Leaf and flower, hath mishod her love : But that passion, duep and true. Knows not of a last adieu. Types of lovcjior i'urms than these In her fragile inin.l .^I,,. sees ; Shad;)ws of yet ricimr things. Born beside immortal springs, Into fuller glory wrought, Kindled by surpassing thought ! Therefore, in the lily's leaf She ean read nu wurd (,|' irrief ; O'er the woodbine she can dwell Murmunng not-F,newell .' Farewell I Andherdmi. yets|,eu!iingeye. Greets the violet solemnly. Therefore, once and yet again Htrew them o'er her bed of pain • Prom her chamber take the d..o,n, \\ ith a light and flush of bloom : »o should one depart who i:oes Where no death ean touch the n).se. FELICIA DOKOTIIEA HEMANS. THE ISLAND HUNTING-SONG. ^0 more the ,«nmnier floweret charms, The leaves will scjoii be sere, And Aufumii fold hi.s jewelled arms ^ Around the dying year ; f^o, ere the waning seasons claim Our leafless groves a while. With g,)!dcn wine and glowinV flame VV e 11 crown our lonely isle. Once more the merry voices sound "ithiM the antlered hall And Ion.. ,,„1 lou,l the baying hounds Iteturn the hunter's call ■ And ihrough the woods, and o'er the hill. Ami lar along the bav. The driver's horn is .souixlinir slinll— Uj), sportsmen, and away No bars of steel, or walls of .stone, Uur little emiiire bound But eircling with his azure zone 1 he .sea runs ioaming round: llie whitening wave, the |)urpled skies, I lie blue and lifted shoiv Hrnid with their dim and blending d\ • 'ur wide horizon iyes And who will leave the grave debate Ihiit shakes the sniokv town. lo rule amid our isl.in.l-state And wear our oak-leaf crown ? r And who will be a wiiile content J hunt our w III sigh not to prolong Our days beneath the bioad-lcaved trees. Our nights ot mirth and ..on- '^ J lien leave the dust of noi.sy stirots ie outlaws <,f the wood Ainl follow through hi.< gi;en retreats lour noble liobin flood. Ol.lVlCIt WKXOKJ.L iioL.vn:s. A CRADLE. SADDEN when thou ^ Cliild of mv 1 snalost to my smile. ■".V love ! I tremble to bclievi fill , ; '^ iitiuuiu to uc I liat o er the mirror of that e.ye of Olue he shadow of my heart will alwavs pass -^ A heart tha from its struggle with the woi d ' Cones nightly to thy guarded cradle home. And, carelcs of the staining du.st it brinirs tevS'n'"" ^"/'"f "•'"^"^"■'■'^''f'^^-'th Aie \isited by everv air that «tir« And drink in .sweetness only, while the child 1 hat shuts within Its breast a bloom for luavejt Si f, ^'ur ";''*'■"'" ^''« *"•"""' ^'f'<"'e, And bear the blight forever. ,... . , , I liave wept U.th gladness at the gift of this fair , hild ! -»i life IS bound up in her. Hut. (KJod' lliou know St liow heavily my heart at time« Bears It. .sweet burthen; and if ,hou hi given To nurture such as mine this spotless flower To bring It unpolluted unto Thee lake riioi. its love, I pray Thee ! (Jive it Ibdit- Tbough, following the .sun, it turn from nL'-- «ut,_by the chord thus wrung, and bv tiie Ibdit Shining about her, draw me to mvehikP^ And link us close, God, when near to "heaven ! NATHAMKl. I'AKKKU WII.US, F o er. MY OLD STR,.vV HAT. AEKWKLL, ol.l friend-we pan at la^t • I'niit... flowers and siu,im..r, all aiv ,,ast ■ And when the b,.eM,-l,.aves l,i,l ,dieu, ' ;'ly oiti straw hat must v.aiiish too n e ve been together maiiv an hour In gia,«sy dell, and garden' bower • ' And plait and riband. scorcl„.d and torn, 1 mel.um how wel! thou hast bi \\ e V( ■ So let had a ti uie sing a grateful song— lual tiecn Worn, "Je- gay, bright, and long ; THE FIRESIDE. ave debate town, ito, 'iinvii ? Jiitont ainf, tliiit scent lie? ;* like tlicsic il-lcaveJ trees, SOIli,' ? y streets, eii retroiitf KNOKI.I, KOLMRS. t tu iiij- smile, We tu believe t e.vc of bliii' ill illwiiys )i:i>s.s ;- tb the worlij, lie liiiiun, it briiiirs. lowers of earth ! tlieeliild 111 for licave;> li of love, tit ir chilli ! :)';od! t at times 111 iiast {riven ■-i.'- flower, Oive it liL'ht— fiiiin me .' — by (he liglii •hikl ! ir to heaven ! UIKKll WILLIS. 1 at hist ; I are past ; 1 adieu, [oo. our, nd torn, n Worn, iud loiijr ; 23 And if one bay-leaf falls to iiie, I'll stick it firm and fast in thee, My old straw hat. Thy flappiii!,' shade and flyiiitr strin.irs Are worth a thousand elosc-tiod things. I love thy ea.sy-fittiiifr (-rown. Thrust li"htly baek. or slouehing down. I cannot r(]ok a muffled ear. ■Vhen la, .v and bhickljjrd whistle riear ; And dearly like to meet and seek The fresh wind with unguarded cheelc. Tossed in a tree, tluju'lt bear no harm ; Fluii,!: on the moss, thou'lt lose no ebarm ; liike many a real friend on earth. Rough usage only proves thy wovth, .^ly old >traw hat. The world will stare at (hose who wear Rich, snowy pearls in raven hair ; And diamonds flash bravely (.nt In ehestnut tresses wreatluVi alujut : The golden bands may avii'ie and twirl, Like shining snakes throngli each liiir'curl ; And soft down with imperial grace May bend o'er beauty's blushing faee : But niueh I d(jubt if brows that bear The jewelled elasp and jilumage rare. Or tcmnles liound with ereseent wreath. Are half so eooi a.s mine beneath My old straw hat. Minerva's helmet ! what of tliaf? Thou'rt quite as good, my old straw hat ; For 1 eau thinly, and mu.se. and dream, ' With poring brain and busy seheuie ; I ean inform my craving soul How wild bees work and planets roll ; And be all silent, grave, and !.'rim. Beneath the shelter ol' thy brim. The cap of liberty. for.si)uth ! Thou art the thing to me in truth ; For slavish fashion ne'er can break Into the green paths where 1 take iMy old straw hat. Farewell, old friend, thy work is done ; Tlie misty clouds shut out the sun ; The grajies are iilui'ked, the hops are off, The woods are stark, and I must doff .My old straw hat— but "bide a wee," Fair skies we've seen, yet we may see Skies fail as fair as those of ynre, •Vnd then we'll wander forth once more. Farewell, till droojung bhielu'lls blow, And violets stud the warm hedgerow— Farewell, til! dai,>;ies deck the plnin i-arewell, till spring days cotue a.iraiii— My old straw hat ! KLIZA COOK. Y DEPARTED DAYS. n 'ES, dear departed, eheri.shed days. Could .Memory's hand restore Yoiir morning light, your evening rays From Time's gray urn uiiee more- Then might this restlos heart be still. This straining eye might close. And Hope her fainting pinions fold. While the fair phatitoms rose. But. like a child in ocean's arms. We strive against the stream. Each moment farther from the shure ^\ here lile's young fountains gleam- Each moment fainter wave the fields. And wider rolls the sea; The mist grows dark— the sun goes down- Day breaks — and where are we':* OMVKK WKNDKLL IIOL.VES. ANNIE OF THARA'W. NNIE (if Tharaw, my true love of old. She is my life, and my goods, and njy -^old. Annie of Tharaw, her heart once again To me has surrendered in joy and in pain. Annie of Tharaw, my riches, my good. j Tliou, O my soul, my flesli .■iini my blood 1 Then come the wiM weatlier, come .sjeet or eonie snow, We will .stand by each other, however it blow. Opjiression, an,' sickness, and sorrow, and pain, Shall be to our tru-^ love as links to the chain. As the jialm-tree .standeth so straight and so tall. The more the hail beats, and the more the i,iin> fall. So love in our hearts shall grow mighty and strong, Through crosses, through sorrows, through mani- fold wrong. Shouldst tliou be torn from me to wander alone In a desolate land where the sun is scarce known. Through forests I'll follow, and where the s,.a flows Through ice, and through iron, through arniie.- of foes. Annie of 'Tharaw, my light atid my sun. The threads of our two lives are w'oven in one. Whate'er I have bidden thee thou ba-1 obeyed. VVhatcver forbidden thou ha.st not tr.iiosaid. How in the turmoil of life can love statid. Where there is not one heart, and one month, and one hand I l r 24 BEAUTIFUL GEMS. Some seek for dissension, and trouble, and strife ; Like a dog and a cat live sui'li man and wife. Annie of Tnaraw, sudi is not our love. Thou ait luy lambkin, my chick, and my dove. Whate'or my desire is, in thine may be seen ; I am king of the household — thou art ita queen. It is this, my Annie, uiy heart's sweetest rest, That makes of us twain but one soul in one breast. This turns to a heaven the hut where we dwell ; While wrangling,' sonii changes a home to a iicU. HENRY WADSWORTH LONGl'KLUnV. THE OLD MAID. WHY sits she thus in solitude ? Her heart Seems melting in her eyes' delicious blue ; And as it heaves, her ripe lips lie ajnirt. As if to let its heavy throlibings through ; In her dark eye a depth of softness swells. Deeper than that iier careless girliioud wore ; And her cheek crimsons with tiie hue that tells The rich, fair fruit is ripened to the core. It is her thirtieth birthday ! With a sigh Her soul hath turned from youth's luxuriant bowers. And her heart taken up the last sweet tie That nieasureil out its links of golden hours ! She feels her inmost soul within her stir With thoughts too wild and ))assionate to speak ; Yet her full heart — its own interpreter — Translates itself in silence on her cheek. Joy's opening buds, affection's glowing flowers, Once lightly sjiraiig within her beaming track; Oh, life was beautiful in those lost hours ! And yet she does not wish to wander back ; No 1 she but loves in loneliness to think On pleasures jiast, thotigh never more to be ; Hope links her to the future— but the link That binds her to the past is memcry. From her lone i)ath she never turns aside. Though passionali' worsliipijcrs before her fall ; Jjikc some pure planet in her lonely )iride. She .seems to soar and beam above them all. Ni't that her heart is cold — emotions new And Iresh as flowers are with her heart-.strings knit ; And .•'Wictly inuuinnil plcusurfs wander through Her virgin soul, and softly riitllc it. For she hath lived with heart and sold alive To all tlint makes life Ikautiful and fair ; Sweet tlioughts, like honey-bees, have made their hive Of her soft ()o.som-cell. and cluster there. Yet life is not to her what it hath been — Her soul hath learned to look beyond its gloss ; And now she hovers, like a star, between Her deeds of love, her Saviour on the cross ! Beneath the cares of earth she docs not bow, 'J'hough she hath ofttimes drained its bitter cup ; But ever wanders on with heavenward brow. And eyes whose lovely lids are lii'ted uj). She feel.-; that in that lovelier, hajjpier sjdiere Her bo.som yet will, bird-like, find its mate. And all the joys it found so blissful here Within that .spirit-realm perpetuate. Yet sometimes o'er her trendiling heart-strings tiiril) Soft sighs — for raptures it hath ne'er enioyed ; And then she dreams of love, and strives to fill With wild and jiassionate thoughts the craving void. And thus she wanders on — half sad, half blest — Without a mate for the pure, lonely heart That, yearning, throbs within her virgin breast. Never to find its lovely counterpart I AMKI.IA n. WKLUY. MOTHER MARGERY. 0N a bleak ridge, from whose granite edges Sloped the rough land to the grisly north ; And whose hemlocks, clinging to the ledges Like a thiiuied banditti staggered forth — In a crouching, wormy-timbered hamlet Mother Margery sliivered in the cold. With a tattered robe of faded canilot On her shoulders— crooked, weak, and old. Time on her had done his cruel jileasure ; For her face was very dry and thin. And the records of his growing measure Lined and cross-lined all her shrivelled skin. Scanty goods to her had been allotted, Yet her thanks rose oftener than desired ; While her bimv fingers, bent and knotted, Fed with withered twigs th-.' dying fire. Haw and weary were the northern winters; Winds li.Avliil iiiteously around Ikt ciif, Or with mile sighs made the Jarriiiu splinters Moan the misery she beinoaned ik.I. Oriftiiig tempests rattled at her windows. And hung snow-wreaths aroiuid her naked bed; While the wind-flaws inutter(>d on the cinders. Till the last spark fluttered and was dead. l/il'e had fresher hopes when she vras younger, Hut their dying wrung out no com|iltiint8; Chill, and penury, and neglect, and lnuiger — These to Margery were guardian saitits. When she sat. her head was. prayer-like, bending; W hen she rose, it rose not any more ; I'aster seemed her true heart graveward tending Than her tired feet, weak and travel-sore. M'CIl — yoiiil its gkiA.* ; twt'on II till' crass ! s not bi)w, il its liitter cup ; aid brow, lUiJ up. lier sjihere d its mate, I here itc. loart-strintrs tiiriP lo'or I'lijoycil ; strives to till uglits the eraving 1. liair blest— lely h(>art .'irgiu breast, irt! MKI.IA 13. WELUY. ERY. granite edges I the grisly north ; iiig to the ledges itaggered I'orth— unlet cold, lot V, and old. asure ; ill, asure veiled skill, led, desired ; notlcd, ig fire. winters ; tier cot, ig splinters lUit. iidows. her naked bod ; the cinders, vas dead. as younger, iniilaiiits ; 1 nuiiger — saints. T-likc. bendiuK; lore ; ward tcndillC ivcl-sore. THE MASQUERADERS. -1 J >«|^i THE FIRESIDE. 26 She was mother of the dead and scattered— ITiiil liecii motlierof the brave and fair; Hilt licr brandies, bough by boujrli, were shattered, Till hor turn breast was loft dry and bare. Yet slic lrate In this soil eveinns sunlivJil, T calmly stand and wait,' Once more the ^ates are opeiud ; an inli.nt .irroup .ro The sweet smile .|uem-he.l forever, and stilled tho spright.y slumt, ^"' '"""'"'row '' """" "'' "*'■ *''"' "''"" '^"^ g'-eensward ^'* '"'blow"""^ ^"''' """P^"^*^' '^■''^ every wind that So eome from every region, so enter, side by side /he strong and faint of sjurit, the meek and m^n „f pride, Steps of earth's groat and mighty, between those pillars gray. And prints of little feet, mark the dust along the way And some approach the threshold whose looks are blank with tear. And some whose temples brighten witi, joy in drawimr near, As if they saw dear faces, and .-aught the gracious Of Him, the sinless Teacher, who came for u. vo die. ' """"hean •'°^'' "" '"■™''' ^''' ''"■^^' ^i''"" ^y Can neither wake the .Iread nor the Ku.ging ,o depart ■ And, in the sunshine streaming on ,'ui 't ZKd I stand and calmly wait till the hinges turn for me. WII.MA.M C'ULLEN- BKYANT. m TIME'S CURE. OTIRN, rejoicing heart I ^ The hours are flying ; Each one some treasure takes, Each one some blossom breaks, And leaves it dying; The chill, dark night draws neai^ Tho sun will soon depart. And leave thee sighing : ITjen mourn, rnjoiiing heart I The hours are flying ! IJI' IJI Kejoice, O grieving heart : The hours fly la^t — ^Vith each so'-ni sorrow dies, M'ith each .some shadow flies ; I'ntil at last The rod dawn in the cnlsI Bids wcaiy iiighi dopurt. And jiain is jiast ; Kejoice then, grieving heart I The hours fly fast ! A PETITION TO TIME. 01 '('II 11.S gently, tinio ! lilt us glide adown thy stream (ientiy— as we sometimes glide Through a (luiet drcani. Humble voyagers are \><', Hu.sbaiid, wife, and chiM.vn three— (One is lost— an anutd, fled To the azure overhead !) Touch us gently, time ! We've not prrjud nor soaring wings, Our ambition, our content. Lies in simple things. IIunibK voyagers are we, O er life ,s dim, unsounded .sea, Seekiiii; only s(jme calm clime ;— Touch us gently, gentle time I ' UKYA.N' WALLKK I'ROCTHR, THE END OF THE PLAY. [IK play is done— the curtain drops. Slow falling to the prompter's bell ; A moment yet the actor stops. And looks around, to say farewell. It is an irksome word and task ; And, when lies laughed and '.said his say. He sliows, as he removes the mask, A face that's anything but gay. One word, ere yet the evening ends- Let's do.se it with a ii.irtiii!; rhyme • And pledge a hand to all young friend's, As fits the merry Christmas linie • On hfe'.s wide .scene you, too. have i,art« I hat fate ere long shall bid vou play • Good-nig „ !-^vi,l, honest, gentle hearts A kindly greeting go alway ! Good-night !-rd .say tho griefs, the joys •Jii.'it hinted in this mimic page The trium|)hs and defeats of boys. Are but repeated in our age ; I'd say your woes were not les.s'keen Your hopes n;orr vain, than thosc'of men- Jour pangs or pleasures of fifteen At forty-five played o'er again. THE FIRESIDE. 27 )ariiis wings I'd siiy wc suffer and we strive Ndt lew nur ;ore as nieii tlian boys — With grizzled liiiiid.> at li)it.v-(ive, As erst at twelve in corduroys ; And if, in time of Hacre'l ycmth. We learned at home to love and pray, Pray heaven that early love and truth May never wholly pass away. And in the world, aj> in the school, I'd wiy hiiw line may ihaiij;e and shift — The prize lie sometimes with the fool, The raee not iilways to the swift ; The strong may yicM, the good may fall, The jirei*. man be a vuljrar clown, The knave be lilted over all. The kind casi -tilessly dowR. Who knows the insenitahle desicrn ? Hlessed be lie who took aiid gave ! Why should your mother, Charles, not mine. He weepinir at her darlint's grave ? We bow to Heaven that willed il so, That darkly rules the fate of all,' That .sends the respite or the blow. That's free to give or to recall. Tills erown.s his feast with wine anil wit — Who brought him to that mirth and state'.' His belt<'rs, see. lielow liim -.jt, Or hunger hoiuless al the gate. Who bade the mud from I lives' wheel To spurn the ra; it liazarus'; Come, brother, in that dust we'll kneel. Confessing Heaven that ruled it thus. So each shall mourn, in life's advaiice. Hear hoj-.es, dear frienils. untimely killed— Shall grieve fiir nmny a fnrfeil ehanee. And longing passion unl'ullilled. Amen !— whatever fate be sent, I'ray (iod the heart may kindly glow. Although the head with iv'.ns be bmt, And whitened with the winter snow. Come wealth or want, come good or ill. Let young and old accept their part, And bow before the awful will. And bear it with an boMist heart. VVlio misses, or who wins the jirize — do, lo.-^e or eoni|uer as you can ; But if you fail, or if you rise. Be each, pray God, a geiitlcmati. A gentleman, or old or young (Bear kindly with my humble lay.s) ! The sacred chorus tirst was sung rpon the llr.st of Christmas days: The .shcplwrd.s beard it overhead — The joyful angels raised it then : Glory to Ifc;!vcn on high, it said. And peace on earth to gentle men ! My 8ong. save tluH, is little worth ; I lay the weary pen aside. And wish you health, and love, and mirth, As (its the solemn Christmas-tidi', As fits the holy Christmas birth, He this, good friends, our carol still : Be peace on earth, be jieaee on earth. To men ol' gentle will. WILLIAM MAKEPKACE Til A( Ki;i;.\-, lose IcnU'cl OLD DOBBIN. KUH'S a song for old Dobbin, wl and Worth Arc too rare to be spurned on the score of iiis birth. He's a creature of trust, and wlwt more should \>^' heed 'f 'Tis deeds, and not blood, make the man and ilie steed. He Wius bred in the forest, and turiii d on the plain. Where the thi.stle-burs clung to his fetlocks and inane. All ugly and rough, not a .soul could esfiy The spark of good-nature that dwelt in his ey(^ The summer had waned, and the autumn month- rolled Into those of stern winter, all dreary and cold ; But the north wind might whi.-lle, tint siiow-llake might ilanci — The colt of the coinmoii was Ici't to his chance. '-frozen, the hail-storm wciil.. Half-starved and hal pelt ; Till his shivering limbs told the pangs that he felt But we pitied the brute, and. though laughed at by -.ih. We tilled him a manger and gave him a stall. He was fond as a spaniel, and soon he became The pride of the herd-boy, the pet of the dame. 'Tis \,ell that his market-price cannot be known ; But we christened him Dobbin, and called him .mi own. He grew out of eolthood, and, lo ! what a change ! The knowing ones .said it was " mortally strange ; ' For the foal of the forest, the colt of the waste. Attracted the notice of jockeys of taste. The line of his .symmetry was not i xact ; But his paces were clever, his mould was comp;ict /nd his shaggy, thick ciiat now appeared wilii gloss. Shining out like the gold that's been jiurgeu of iu-; dross. We broke him for service, and tamely he wore Girth and i bore ; Each farm, it is k And Dobbin was seeming proud of the thri'ldom he nown, must possess ours, for all tii odd' stce... and all need. !■ 11 ! ) 28 BEAUTIFUL GEMS. I In carried the imwter to barter hin xruin, And evd with liim siit'cly uvriiin : ThiTu wan iiitTit in that, Cor dony it whii may, W lien tiui muster could not, Dobbin cmid find hJH Way. Tlic dairy-maid ventured her ejrgs on his hack, "IVas him, and iiim only, (died tru.st witli tiu' pacit, liic teain-iiorws jdhed, the road.ster i)hivi'd jiranivH ■ So Dobhm alone iiad her faith and her thanivs, W'e fundovinif uiviiins would L'nmp by hi.s sj,!,. ; \Ve miKht foarlessly mount him, and darinvly ride : We miKhtereei) through his lega, we uiiKht "plait ids Umx tail ; l!ii; hi.s temper and patienee were ne'er known to fail. We would brush his bright hide till 'twas free from a speek ; \\'ii kissed his brown muzzle, and huirged his thick neck ; Oil ! we prized him like hic, and a heart-hroaking ,soh Kver burst when they threatened to sell our dear Dob, He .stood to the collar, and tugfjcd up the hill. \\ ith the pigs to the market, the grist to the mill ; U Ith saddle or halter, in shaft or in trace ; .le was .stanch to his work, and (!ontent with his i)laec. U'hen the hot sun was crowninir the toil of the year Me was sent to the ivapcrs with lunch and good cheer • And none in tli,. corn-field more welcome were seen ' Ihaii Dob and his well-laden panniers, I ween. < '![ ! those d.iys of pure bli.ss shall I ever forget U icn we dc'ked out his h.-ad with the azure rosette • All Iraiitie with joy to be off to the liur, \\ ith Dobbin, good Dobbin, to earrv us there'? E lie was dear to us all, aye, for many loi.g years ; luerey ! how's this? my eyes'tillitiL' with tears. lint, , .. , - ,, - •■> >^.i>. •' iiiiMiu null If ' li, how cruelly sweet are the w^hoes that start • W lien memory plays an old tune on the heart ! ' There are droj.s on my eheek, there's a throb in my breast ; lint my .song shall not cNise. nor my ,,en take its rest • III 1 tell t.iat old Dobbin .still lives ti be .seen ' \\ Ith his oat.s in the stable, his tares on the green. Ilis best years have gone by, and the mast." wlio gave J he stern yoke to his youth has enfh.. , hi.^ed the slave ; So browse on myold Dobbin, nor dream of tl„. knife • I'M- the wealth of a king should not pnnhasc thy life.' KI.IZ.V TOOK. B UNDER THE MISTLETOE. < »VS wore as Mithe, and girls were as gay, l'"ilty years since as they are to-day. 1 was as (Clipper as most of the set That j)o.sed and bowed in the minuet- Fifty years ago. (trandrather's house, on a Christiims night Kifty years since, was ablaze with light, doshua caught and ki.s.sed me ilieie, AskiHl me a question, lairly and siiu'uro, Under the mistletoe. (jirls were as fair and tickle were they, Fifty years since as they are to-day. Fickle was I as most of the set \\ ho haven'l answered the ciue.stion yet— Fifty yours ago. And gray and old as T had to grow, I ('an teel that ki.ss of the long ago', For Joshua Just now kissed his wife For the (iliieih Clinstinasol' his life I'lider the mislleloe. THE EDEN OF REPOSE. EL()\'|']D! amid the earnest woes That crowd around my earthly path— (Drear path, alas! wliciv irrows 1' )t even oik; lonely rose)— -My .soul at least a solace hath In dreams of thee, and therein knows An Ivlen id'. bland rejio.se. Ami thus my memory is to me Like some ench.inted far-off isle In some tumultuous sea — Some ocean throbbing far and free ^ With storms— but where meanwhile Serenest skies continually Just o'er that one bright island sndle. HI" All Al.I.EN POK. r p LOVES HOME. T is not ill the nioiintains Nor the palact's of |ii-ide. That love will ilild his wings up .\nd rejoicingly abide ; But ill meek and humble natures His home is ever Ibiind, As the lark that sings in heaven Builds its nest upon the ground I.AMA.V m.ANCHAR:' MATERNAL LOVE. MOTHEH'Slove! If there be one thing pure. Where all beside is sullied ; That can endure, When all else puss aw.iy : If there be aiiglit Suriia.ssing human deed, or word, or thollirjlt ■ It is a mother's love I .MARCHIONESS I)K SPADARA. r THE FIRESIDE. 29 ii'iNtinus night "•itli WnUi. • liu'ic, itiil wiuuro, oo. ■oro they, Dilay. I't ii!»ti(in yet — >: iijro, lis witt) lii.i lilb IC. 'OSE. wons It lily path- MWS lath uin knows iiie )ff isle id free iit'iuuvliiie >iiiii(l smile. Ai; AI.I.EN POE. ;s up iitnres ?aveii ,'rt)uii(l. S' DI.AXCIIARTV word, or I>K SPADARA. JP BRIDAL BALLAD. IIK riiiK i» •>» my l>ai>d, Ami tlic wreath is m iny brow ; S^atiiiM and jowuls (.'rmid \u^ all at my ('(Hiiiiiaiiil, And 1 am happy now. And my lunl lu; Icivc^ me well ; Iiut, when first he hreuthed his vow, I It'll my Ixisoni swell — For the worus rang as a knell And the V(iiee seemed his who fell In the hat lie down the dell, And who is happy now. But ho spoke to reiiHsure nie. And he kissed niy pallid brow. While a revery eiime o'er me, And to the ehureh-yard bore me. And I Mijrhed to him lietore uie, ThitikiiiL'- him ili'ad D' Klormie, "Oh. I am happy now ! " And thus the words were spok ., And this the plijrhled vow, And, thoii^'h my i'ailh he broken. And, tliou'.'li my heart bo broken, Behold the irolden token That proves mo hap|py now ! Would (iod I could awaken ! For T dream I know not bow. And my ."oul is sorely shaken Lest an evil stej) be taken — Le.st the dead who is forsaken May not be happy now. KIXJAK ALl.KN POK. THE FIRESIDE. From '■ KVANoi'.r.isK." rNPOORS, warm by the wide-mouthed fire-place, idly the tanner Sat in his elbow-chair, and watched how the flames and the smoke-wreaths Strugiik'd logolher like foes in a hurninir city. Behind h.n, Neddinu' and mookins alon>:j the wall, wilh postures fantastic, I'anod bis own huge shadow, anil vaiiisbeil away into darkness. Fa('e.«, clumsily carveil in oak, on the back of his arm- chair LuiL'bcd in the flickering light, and the pewter pl.ites oil the dresser Caiiirlii and rofloeted the flame, as shield.s of armies the sunshine. Hang in their Xori> .m orehardMund bright Buigundian vinoyarils. ' 'Jloite at her father's Hide was the gciitlo KvaDgellnv seated, Spinning lla.\ tiir the loom, that stood in the corner behind her, Hilent a while were its treadles, at rest was its diligent shuttle. While the monotonous drone of the wheel, like the drone of a bag pi)ie, Followed the old man's song, and united the frag- ments logcihcr. As ill a church, when the chant of the choir at inter- vals ceases, Footi'alls are heard in the aisUw, or words id" the priest at th<' altar, So, in each pause of the .song, wilh ineasin'cd motion the cloek elickcd. IIKNKY WADSWOUTII I.ONdFKI.LOW LET THE CLOTH BE WHITE. itb be set the table, Mary, an' let lli while ! The hungry city children an: comin' here to- night ; The childien from the city, with features pinched and spare, Are comin' here to gel a breath of (bid's untainted air. They come from (uit the dungeons where they with want were chaineil ; From places dark an' dismal, by tiars ot sorrow- stained ; From where a thousand shadows arc iiiiirdcrinj; all the liLdit ; Set well the table, Mary dear, an' lot the cloth bo while! They ha' not seen the daisies made for the heart's behoof; They never heard the rain-drops upon a cottage roof; They do not know the kisses of zephyr an' of brcc ze ; They never rambled wild an' free beneath the forest trees. The food that thoy ha' oaten was spoiled by other's greeds ; The very air their lungs breathed was full o' poi.son seeds ; The very air their souls breathed was full o' wrong and spile ; Go set the table, Mary dear, and let the cloth be white ! The fragrant water-lilies ha' never smiled ut ilicm ; They never pick a wild-flower from off its dewy f*( in , Fragments of song the old man sang, and carols of i Thoy never saw a greensward that thoy could -a lily ('!iri'-tni;i-:, pass Such as at home, in the olden time, his fathers before Unless they heeded well the sign that says, " Keep him I oft' the grr\ss." •9m imim 30 BEAUTIFUL GKMS. (i.Ml bloMti ilio men an' woiueri of nolilo limin iin' iMfiirt Who K" 'ii'Wii in tliu folk-Hwimipi an' tako tlu! iliililii'n'.s part. Thcsu liiuiKry, I'luti-ry i-liildren tlnit koup ut in ilifir ili'lit. Anil iiivur lUil to give us more of pi. iwurf than thoy got! Sut well the fal)!,., Mary; lot nuujfht Ims scant .ir sMiail— The littlt) DUcM arc coming here ; havi^ plenty for them all. There's nothinx we should furni.sh except the very To those that Jesus looked upon iin' called to him un' blessed. Wtl I. tAKI.KTON. WOMAN'S VOICE. Hit Vilify Wfl>» I'VIT Iii*v, (iutiilH iinil x.ft-iiii fnicUint thiiJK .u w„man. KINl. LKAR |OT in the swayinir of the .suniiner tree.s, When evoniiij; hreezoj* .sin^ their vesper hymn— ^ Not in the niinf^trds mighty symphonies, .Nor npplf.s hreakinc d — By patienee never tired, from their own tri rowed. .\n exe.'llent thinj.' it is, when first in jrladness .\ mother looks into her infant's eyes. Smiles to its smiles, and .saddens to its .sadness. Tales at its paleness, .sorrows at its cries • Its food and sleep, and smiles and little jovB- .\ll these come ever blent witli one low gentle voice. An excellent thing it i.s when liir is leavinsr, Leaving with gloom and gladness, jovs and cares [he .strong heart failiiiL'. and the high soul -riidng \\ith strangest thought.s, and with unwonted tears; Jhi'ti. then a woman's low .soft sympathy Comes like an aiiL. 1 s voice to teiieh us how tu die. Hut u moHt excellent thing It is in youth, When the find lover hears the loved one's tone I hat tears, but longs, to syllable the truth- How their two hearts are one, and she his own ; It makes sweet human music— oh I the spells That haur.t the trembling tale a bright-eyed matdon tulls .' IvOWIS AKMOI.I). DELIQHT IN DISORDF.P SWKKT disorder in the dress Kindles in clothes a wantonness . A lawn abimt the shoulders thrown Into ji line cli.Ni ruction — An erring lace, which hert^ and there hntliralls the crimson stonia'-JK r — A culf negl|.etful, atid thereby Kibbons to How confusedly— A winning wave, deserving note, In the tempestuous petticoat— A careless shoe string, in whose tie I see a wild civility — Do more bewitch me than when art Is too precise in every part. roui:kt iinunioK. BIRTHDAY VERSES. Th,. Ii,.,irt tlmt WH burc lain ii.'iir h,-fiirK inir l,irlli In th.. .»il» U.Ht ninimt f.TKM that It l,a« l.,v,.,l .».-Pu.,.ii' Su "«„i ^ m ' liirthday ! , blotted with thy streaming tears. My own I do Mot care to ehe"k. I \yeep— albeit here -aXoxw — As if I hung upon thy neck, .Vs if thy lips were on my own, As if this full, .sad heart of mine. Were beating clo.sely upon thine. I'our weary years I How looks she now ? y\ hilt light is in those lender eyes? What trace of time has touched the brow ^ ^ W hose look is borrowed of the skies I hat listen to her nightly prayer'.' ITow is she changed since lie was ther Who sleeps upon her heart alway— Whosi> name upon her lips is worn— For wliDin the night seems made to pray.-- For whom .she wakes to pray at morn— Whose sight is dim, who.se heart -striiiirs stit, Who weeps these tears— to think of her ! I know not if my mother's cye.'i Would find me changed in slighter things T ve Wiiiidcred beiu'arh many .^ikies, And tasted of some bitter sjirings : THE FIRESIDE. •u jvoil otiu'H tone, ic truth— il mIh> IiIh iiwti ; tlu^ S|II'11h briKliteyt"! lujiiJon i:i)WlN AKNOM). RDRP 1 llirnwn ■ illnl lllcTC lu'lii r — 'chy : iioto, at— vliosc tie wlicn art iOUl:i!T IIKI!1!I(;K. lES. r hlrlh ia (I „ly piir MMNiWIir. I1.T ! •r tlic scan, iiilii'i- knees — toara e, she now? 'Vt'S ? tilt' \)Tl)\V ; .skies tlier V — ■ti — to i>ray..- t morn — ■strinvrs utii, of licr! Iter things •s. Ami many leuvos, oiumi fair ami ^ay, Krom youths full ttuwcr have ilroppej away— Hut, a.s thi'so looser li'iivi's (Ii'|iart, Till' li'ssi'tii'd Howi'r KctN rii'ar the core, .\tiil, wh.'ii (l,..H..rt('il (|iiit.', the heart 'i'.ikes .ioM'r what was iloar of yor«^— .\ii'l \eunis In those who lovoii it lirst — Thi' suii-'liiiie ami the .lew l.y whieh its hml was nursed. !>eai' mother I (lout llmu love ine yet / \m I reiiieinhereil in liiy home i* Wheti those I love for joy are met. ^ l>oes some one wish thai I woiiiij eomo ? Thou (lost — I am hel'ived III' tlie>e ! IJut, as the sehoolhoy niindiers o'er N'ivdil alter niifht the I'ieiade.s .Vnd liiids the stars he found heforo— As turns the maiden oft her token- As eiiunts the miser aye his L'oid— Ho, till life s silver eord is h'n.ken, Woidd i of thy iImhI iuve lie told. My heart is full, mine eyes are wet — Deur mother! dost thou liive thy longdost wanderer yet? Oh ! when the hour to meet airain Creeps on— and, speedini; o'er the sea, My lieart takes up its leiiu'theiied chain, .Vml. link by link, draws nearer thee— When land is hailed, and. from the shore. ('onies ort' the hlessed hreath of homo, With frasiraiiee from my mother's door 01 lliiwers I'orirotten when I come — W licii port is jraiued, anil slowly now, Tht' iilil familiar paths aie pas.sed. And enlirinir— unconsi'ious liow — I ua/.o UpiMi thy Cice at last. And run to tliee, all faint and weak, .\nd li'i'l thy tears upon my ehei'k— Oh I if my heart break not wuh joy. The liL'ht of heaven will fairer seem ; And I shall irrow once more a boy : And, mother ! — 'twill be like a dream That we were jiarted thus for yeaiv-- .\nd onre that we liave dried our ' How will the (iays seem Ioiik and To meet thee always with the morn, .Xnd hear thy blessing every night — Thy • dcar-«t," thy "first-born!" ^•"^ ^'-' " now, in a strange land, forlorn ! NATHANIKI, I'AKKKI'. WILMS. nt— B ENOCH'S RETURN. Kriim "Knoch a. ;.|!S." I I'T Knoch yearned to see her face airain ; I If T niiirht look on her sweet fai'e again And know that she is happy ! " so the thought liauhied and harassed him, and drove him forth, ; At evening when the dull Novemhct day Wa^ giowin,' duller twilight, to the lull. There he sat down, gazing on all beji.w : Till re did a thoii.saml memories roll upon him, I'nspeakalili' for sadne.-s. My-andby 'Fhe niildy .sipiare of eonifortal.le light. Far blazing from the rear of I'hilip's house Allured him, a,^ the beae.m blaze allures Th.i bird of pa.s,saKe, till I ladly strikes .Xgaiii.'-l it, and beutu out his weiiry lile. For I'hilip's dwelling fronted on the street, 'nie latest house to landward . but behind, With one small gate that opened on the w'a.-te, Ml ,:risliei| a little garden sipnire and walled; ' And in it throve an ancient evergreen, A y 'Wtree, and all round it ran a walk Of -liinglc, and a w.ilk divided it ; Hut Knoch shunned the middle walk and slob' I'l. by the wall, behind the yew; and thei I hat which he better might have shunned, if i Like his have worse or better, Knoch saw, ^ For cups and silver on the burni>hed beard Sparkled and shone ; so genial was the iicarth : And on the right hand of the hearth he saw I'hilip. the .slighted suitor of old limes. Stout, ro.sy, with his babe across hi> knee.s ; Ami o'er her sci-ond father stooped a girl, \ later lint a loftier .Vnnie F,ei'. Fair-haiied and tall, and fnmi her lified li.ind Dangled a length of ribbon and a ring To tempt the babe, who rear.'d his crea.\V arms, Caught at and ever mi.^.scd it. and tliev laiiglnii And on the left hand of the hearth he saw" Tlie mother glancing often toward her babe. Hut turning now and then to speak with him. Her son, who stood beside her tall and siroic And .saying that whieh j. leased him, for lie smih Now when the dead man, eome to life, bel His wife his wife no more, and .saw the babe Hers, yet not his, upon the father's km ", And all the warnii' the peace, the happine.- And his own ehilih, ,1 tall and beautiful. And him. that other reigning in his place. Lord of his lights and of his children's love- Then h(, though Miriam fiane had told him Heci ,e things seen are miirhtii'r than thing- St;ui;ered and shook, holding tiic branch, am To send abroad a shrill and terrible cry, Whieh in one moment, like the blast iif dm Would shatter all the happiness ;)f t rid all, heard I'earei ini e hear! I He, therefore, turning sif'lly like a thief. Lest the harsh shingle should grate umleilliit, .\nd feelimr all alonr the garden-wull, l.e>t he should swoon and tumble and li,' f.iunu. Crept to the gate, and ('penod it, and r!.^-^ ■!, As lightly as a sick man's chamber door, ndiind him. and came out upon lb ■ w;tste. 32 BEAUTIFUL GKMS. ' 'V. And there he would have knolt, but that his knees Were feeble, so that falling prone he dug His fingers into tho wet earth, and prayed. "Too hard to bear ! why did they take me thenoe ? God Almighty blessed Saviour, Thou That didst uphold me on my lonely isle, Uphold mo, Father, in my loneliness, A little longer ! \id me, give me strength Not to tell her, never to let her know. Help me not to break in upon her peace. My children, too ! must I not speak with thee? They know me not. I should betray myself. Never. No father's kiss for me — the girl So like her mother, and the boy, my son. ' ' There speech and thought and nature failed a little, And he lay tranced. ALFRED TENNYSON. THE BACHELOR'S DREAM. ^TTIIE music censed, the last quadrille was o'er. J I L And one by one the waning beauties flud ; X. The garlands vani.shed from the frescoed floor. The nodding fiddler hung his weary head. And I, a melancholy single man, lletired to mourn my solitary fate. 1 slept a while ; but o'er my slumbers ran The sylph-like image of my blooming Kate. I drcaiut of mutual love and Hymen's joys, Of happy moments and connubial blLsses ; And then I thuuglit of little girls and boys. The mother's glances and the inl'ant's kisses. I saw tiiem all in sweet perspective sitting, In winttjr's eve, around a blazing fire, The children playing and the mother knitting. Or fondly gazing on the happy sire. The .-ieene was changed. In came the baker's bill ; I stanMl to see the hideous consummation Of pies and jiuddings that it took to fill The bellies of the rising generation. There was no end to eating : legs of mutton Were vaiifinished daily by tlii.s little host ; To see them you'd have thought each tiny glutton Had laid a wager who could oat the most- The massy pudding smoked upon the jilatter ; The iionderous .sirloin reared its head in vain ; The little urchins kicked up such a clatter That scarce a remnant e'er appeared again. Then came the .school bill : board and education So much per annum ; but the extras mounted To nearly twice the primal stipulation ; And every little bagatelle was counted ! To nieiiding tuck ; a new Ilouieri Ilias ; .\ pane of glass ; repairing coat and breeches ; A slate and pencil ; binding old Virgilius ; Drawing a tooth ; an open dralt and leeches. And now I languished for the single state. The social converse and the dreamy Sunday, The jaunt to Windsor with my sweetheart Kate, And cursed again the weekly bills of Monday. Then Kate began to scold — I stampt and swore. The kittens .s((ueak, the children loudly scream ; And thus awaking with the wild uproar, I thanked my stars that it was but a dream. THE GRANDFATHER'S STICK. 'rrrWAS as bonnie an ash staflf a J I i^ In the hands of a pilgri A. wood ; as ever was seen im or paths of ! It was tough as the bow of Ulysses T ween ; Its polish was high, and its fibre was good. 'Twas the grandfather's stick — it was his stick ali)ne— Of its forty years' service how proudly he'd tell ; It was all very just — he might call it his own ; Hut evt^-y one else seemed to claim it as well. It was his when the soft, Sabbath chimes floated by. When the sun might be hot, or the mud might be thick ; The cliureh was up-hill, and the youngsters would fly To carry his prayer-book, and find him his stick. It was his when they coaxed him for wickets or bat. Now pleading with tears, and now trusting a laugh ; It was not lialf a mile to the village — and that He could manage right well with the help of his .staff'. But often he wanted his faithful supporter. When as often 'twas asked for and sought for in vain ; Perhaps blaster Dick had it down by the water. Or the young ones had carried it out in the lane. It was not a whit safer for all the close hiding. For corners were peejied in and cupboards explored ; Till some urchin came shouting, careering, and riding On his grandfather's stick, like a tournament lord. There were sticks in abundance, from bamboo to oak. I'ut all eyes and all hands singled that from the rest ; For business or fun that old staff was the one. For all times and all purposes that w.is the best. The herd-boy, perchance, had to cross the bleak waste, When the sky had no star, and the winter bhisl wailed ; His eye lost its light, and his red lips turned white. While 'twas easy to see that his rtide spirit (luailed. He thought of the murdered ghost haunting that spot ; Oi' the gibbet's loose beams — and the boy's hetnt turned sick : But half of the .soul-thrilling fear was forgot If he might but take with him the grandfather's stick. i II; THE FIRESIDE. 33 ngle state, •fiimy Sunday, sweeth(!art Kiite, bills of Monday. .nipt and swore, •nil loudly scrcum ; I uproar, i but a (Iri;aui. 'S STICK. F as ever was seen Igrim or paths of f of niysses T wucn ; i its fibre was good. iriis his stick alone-^ roudly he'd tell ; it his own ; im it a.s well. chimes floated by, the mud might be )unpstcr8 would fly id him his stick. or wickets or bat, w trusting a lau^'li ; e — and that the help of his staff. ipporter, and sought for in by the water, t out in the lane. lose hiding, upboards explored ; retiring, and riding I tournament lord. )m bamboo to oak, a;lcd that from the fa.« the one, at WM.'< the best. cross the bleak id the winter blaw ps turned white, rude spirit (juaili'ii. haunting that spot ; tid the boy's heart was forgot grandfather's stick. "Look, Susan, tho flowers !" was cried in alarm; "See! see! the old sow's in the iranlen— ouick ' quick!" Ami the very nest moment fouiid Susan's strong arm llilaboring Jie.ss with the grandfather's .stick. Wiien the dust-laden carr.cts were .swung on the line. And brave cudgels were chosen— the strong and tile thick. it woidil not take Siliyline art to divine 'I'liat among them was idwavs tiic trrandfathor's stick. But the grandfather waned tV,,m tjic eaitli, day l,v (hiy — ^ Hoards must be opened and treasures must fall ; No seilish heart wateiied o'er his •' passing away.'' Yet that stick was ilie coveted relii; by all. Serenely the old man went down to his grave, Looking on to a future with faith, hope and joy; But. ere the flame died in tlic socket, he gav2 His favorite stick to his I'avorite boy. That boy was a spendthrift, all reckle.ss and gay, Keeping nought but a warm heart and fair honest name ; He was wild in his home— a few years rolled away, lie was out in the world, but the man was the Kune. rie parted from all— from his land and his gold : But, with wealth or without, it was all one to Dick ; The same merry laugh lit his face when he told That he'd nothing more left save his grandfather's .stick. The merry latigh still echoed out, though ho found That friends turned their backs when his money was spent ; lie sung. "The world's wide, and I'll travel it round " — And far from liis kindred the wanderer went. lie lives and yet laiiirhs in the prodiiral's part; Hut wliatever his fortuni — wherever his land, Fherc's a lock of white hair hanging close "to his heart. And an ash staff- the grandfather's stick— in his Itand. EMZA COOK. A MOTHER'S LOVE. \ lyllHIiE is in all this cold and hollow world. 1,0 : ■1} I [7', fount i X " Of deep, strong, deathless love, save that within A mother's lieart. It is but jiriile wherewith io his fair eye the father's eye doth turn. y.-aiPliinsr his growth. Aye." on tlie bale lie looks, And stately tree, whose rising .strength ere long Shall bear his trophies well. And this is love ! This is fiinii's love ! What nnirvel ? .)/'"( neer niiide Vour breast the pillow of his infiiney : While to tlui fulness of your heart's glad lieaviiiirs, His fair cheek ivw and tell, and his briudit I air Waved softly to your breatii I ] '«(/ ne'er kt pt wateii T!ie bright glad creature the ] iMinging in his iiath. leir of his great i)ame--th Beside him till the last jiale .star had .-^ct. And morn, all dazzling, as in triumph, broke I < >n jour dim weary eye ; not ;/')»(•.« the face ' Which early laded through fond care for him, liungo'er his sleep, and didyas heaven's lidit. Was there to greet his wakening ! r,iii ne . i smoothed His cotu'h, nv.'i'v sung him to his rosy rest. ; Caught his least wlii.-per, when his voici' from yours Had learnt .soft utterance; pressed your lip to Ids, When fever iiarehed it ; hushed hi.s wayward cries \yitli patient, vigilant, never-wearied hive ! No ! thest; are woman's ta.sks ! in these her youth, .\nd bloom id' cheek, and buoyancy of heart, Steal from her all unmarked. KKI.ICIA DOKOTIIKA IIK.MANS. BED-TIME. "TTTfil'] fire-flics are lighting the flowers to bed,'' &\{S ' •'■''"' '" '""■ ''"'^' ^'irl-tcaM>. X As rompiinr at dusk through the garden we sped ; And ju.-t then a soft little inicze Bent down very gently each wee flower head. And she with the gravest of airs. Looked 'rotind at the stooped, breeze-bent flowers and said : " And now are they saying their pr.iyers T' s. WAi.TKu xonrus. THE TRAVELLER AWAY FROM HOME. RKMOTK. unfriended, melancholy, slow. Or by the lazy Scheldt, w waiidering I'o. Or onward, where the rude Carinthian boor Against the houseless stranger simts the door Or where (,'amiiania's plain forsaken lies. A weary waste e.xp.anding to the skies : Where'er I roani. wdiatever realms to see. M.y heart untravellod fondly turns to thee ; Still to my brother turns, with ceaseless pain. And drags at each remove a lengthening chain. Kternal blessings crown my earliest ''fiend. And roiuid his dwelling guardian .stints attend ! Blest be that sjtot. where cheerful guests retire To jiause from toil, and time their evening Are ! Blest that abode, ndiere want and pain rejiair. And every stranger finds a ready idiair ! Blest be those feasts with simple jilenty crowned, Where all the rmldy family anuind Laugh at the jests or pranks that never fail, Or .sigh wiljj pi(\ at ,-ome mournful tale; < )r ]iress the bashful stranger to his food, And learn the luxury of doing good I S4 BEAUTIFUL GEMS. if if But we, not destined such deliglits to share, My i)rime of Hfe in wandering silent, unci care; luipcUed, with steps unceasing,', to pur.-ue Some fleeting good tliat mocks uie witii tlie view, That like the circle bounding earth and skies. Allures from far, yet, as I follow, flies ; My future leads to traverh 3 realms alone, And find no spot of all the world my own. E'en now, where Alpine solitudes ascent], I sit me down a pensive hour to spend ; And, placed on high above the storm's career, Look downward where a hundred realnis appear ; Likes, forests, cities, plains extendiuir wide, The pomp of kings, the shepherd's Jmnjbler pride. When thus creation's charms around combine. Amidst the store should thankle.'is jiride repine? Say, should the philosophic mind disdain That good which makes each humbler bos^om vain '' Let .school-taught pride dissemble all it can. These little things are great to little man ; And wiser he whose sympathetic mind Exults in all the good of all mankind. Ye glittering towns, with wealth and splendor crowned Ye fields, where sumtner spreads profusion round ; Ye lakes, whose vessels catch the busy gale ; Ve bending swains, that dress the flowery vale ; For uie your tributary stores combine. Creation's heir, the world— the world is mine ! As some lone miser visiting his store. Bends at his treasure, count.s, recounts it o'er Hoards after hoards his rising raiuures fill, Yet still he sighs, for hoards are wanting still. Thus to my breast alternate passions rise, Pleased with each good that heaven to man supplies ; Yet oft a .sigh prevails, and sorrows fall, To see the sum of human bliss so small : And oft I wish, amidst the scene to find Some spot to real h-p])iness consigned. Where my worn soul, each wandering hope at rest. May gather bliss to see my fellows blest. But where to find that hai)piest si)ot below Who ca.i direct, when all pretend to know ? The shuddering tenant of the frigid Z(jne Boldly proclaims that haiijiiest spot his own, E.Ktols the treasures of his stormy seas, And his long nights of revelry and ease ; Tile naked negro, planting at the line. Boasts of his golden sands and palmy wine. Basks in the glare, or stems the tepid wave. And tliaiiks his gods for all the goods they gave. Such is the patriot's boast where'er we roam, His first, best country, ever is at home. And yet perliajis, if countries we compare. And estimate the blessings which thev share. Though patriots flatter, still shall wisdom find An ( (|ual portion dealt to all mankind ; .'.s ilitrfi-etit good, by art or nature given. To difi'erent nations, makes tii(>ir blessiriirs even. Nature, a mother kind alike to all. Still grants her bli.ss at labor's earnest call , With food as wel' the jteasant is suiipjied ' On Tdra's cliff's as Arno's .shelvy side ; And though the rojky-erested summit's frown, fhese rocks by custom turn to beds of down. From art more various are the blessings sent— \yeakh, commerce, honor, liberty, content. Yet these each other's iiower so strong contest. That either .seems destructive of the rest. Where wealth and freedom reign, contentment Ms, And honor sinks where commerce long prevails. Hence every state, to our loved blessing prone, Conforms and models life to that alone. Each to the favorite hap|)ine.ss attends. And sjiurns the iilan that aims at other ends, "ill, carried to excess in each domain. This favorite good begets peculiar pain. But let us try these truths with closer eyes. And trace them through the jirospect as it lies ; Here, for a while, my jjrojier cares resigned, Here let me sit in sorrow for mankind ; Like yon neglected slirub at random cast, That shades the steep, and sighs at every bla«. Far to the right, where Apennine ascends, Bright as the summer, Italy extends ; Its ujilands slojiing deck the mountain's side, Weeds over woods, in gay theatric pride, While oft some temple's mouldering tops betwcsn H ith venerable grandeur mark the scene. Could nature's bounty satisfy the breast. The sons of Italy were surely blest : Whatever fruits in difi'erent climes are found. That proudly rise, or humbly court the ground • Whatever blooms in torrid tracts appear, Whose bright succession decks the varied year ; Whatever sweets salute the northern .sky With vernal lives, that blossom but to die ; These here disporting own the kindred soil'. Nor ask luxuriance from the planter's toil ;' AVhile .sea-born gales their gelid wings expand, To winnow fragrance round the smiling land But small the bliss that sense alone be.stows, And sensual bliss is all this nation know.s. In florid beauty groves and fields appear, Man seems the only growth that dwindles here, ("outlasted faults through all his manners reign : Though poor, luxurious ; though submissive, vain ; 1 hough grave, yet trifling : zealous, yet untrue ! And e'en in penance planning sins anew. All evils here contaminate the mind. That opulence departed leaves behind ; For wealth w.as theirs ; not far reinove'd the date When commerce proudly flourished through the stata At her coiniuand the [lalace learned to rise. Again tlie iong-t'allen column sought the skies. The canvas glowed, beyond e'en nature warm,' THE FIRESIDE. 36 The prejrnant quarry teamed with human form ■ lill. iiiiiru uiisti-ady than thu southern gale Uiuiijcive on other shores displayed her sail • U hile naught remained, of idl tliat riches irave But towns unmanned, and lords without a slave' • And late the nation found, with fruitless skill ' Its former strength was but jilethonc ill. Yet still the loss of weahli is hero supijlied By arts, the splendid wreeks of foniicr ju-ido • I'rom these the feeble heart and long-fidlen mind An easy compensation seem to find. Here may be seen, in bloodless |iomp arrayed, Ihe pasteboard triumph and the cavalcade : 1 rocessions formed for i)iety and love, A mistress or a saint in every grove By sports like the.se are all their cares beguiled ; Ihe sports of chddren satisfy the child • hach iiobler aim, repressed by long control I^ow sinks at last, or feebly mans the soul ; \\ liile low delights succeeding fast behind In happier meanness occui)y the mind. As in those do.nes where Ciesars oqee bore sway, l)efaced by time, and tottering in decay, 1 here iii the ruin, heedless of the dead llie slielter-seeking peasant builds his shed • And wondering man could want the larger pile, i!-xults, and owns his cottage with a smile. My soul, turn from them ! turn me to survey n here rougher climes a nobler race display, V\ Here the bleak Swiss their stormy mansion tread And force a churlish .soil for scanty bread • JVo product here the barren hills afford But man and steel, the soldier and his sword • iNo vernal blooms their torpid roeks array ' But winter lingering chills the laj) of May ■ iNo zephyr fondly .sues the mountain's breast. But meteors glare, and stormy glooms invest. Yet still, even hero, content can spread a charm, Hedress the clime, and all its rage disarm. 1 hough poor the peasant's hut, small, Pe .sees his little lot the lot of all ; ^H'sno contigii.ms palace rear its iiead lo shame the meanness of his humble shed • .No costly lord the sumptuous ba.uput deal I', make him loathe his veiretable meal ■ Hilt calm, and bred in ignorance and toil' Kiich wish contracting, fits him to the soil beri-tul at morn he wak.'s from short repose, I ly.jthes the keen air. and carols as he "oet ■ \\ It i patient angle trolls the finny deep r drives his venturous i.loiighshare to the steep • Ur .seeks the den where snow-tracks mark the way. An,! drags the struggling savage into day. At night retiirniiiir. every labor sped. He .sit,s him down the monarch of a slied ■ Nniles by a cheerful fire, and round surveys Uis children's looks that brighten to the blaze, his feast though J\ hi e his loved partner, boastful of her hoard, J)isplays her cleanly jdatter on the board ; And haply too some iiilgrim. thither led \\ ith many a tale rejjays the nightly bed. Thus every good his native wilds impart Imprints the patriot le.s.son on his heart • And e'en those ills that round his mansion rise Mihanee the bh.ss his scanty fund sui.plies I'ear is that shed to which his .s(ml informs And .lear that hill that lifts him to the st.,rnis ■ And as a child, when scaring .sounds molest ' Umgs close and elo.ser to the mother's breast N. the loud torrent and the whirhvinds roar ' But bmd him to his native mountains more. Such are the charms to barren states assi-ned • rheir wants but few, their wishes all confined ■ ' \ et let them only share the praises due- It few their wants, their pleasures arc but few ; J^or every want that stimulates the breast Becomes a source of pleasure when redressed Hence from such lands ea-d, pleasing .science flies, lliat hrst excites desire and then supplies • r nknown to them, when sensual ,,leasure,s cloy. lo bfl the languid jiauso with finer iov ■ Unknown those powers that raise tlie'.soul to flame, tatch every rierve and vibrate through the frame. Iheir level life is but a smouldering fire Nor quenched by want, nor fanned by sJrong desir.; Unfit for rai.turcs, or if rajitures cheer On some high festival of once a year In wild excess the vulgar breast takes fire, nil, buried ui debauch, the bli.ss expire. But not their .joys alone thus coar.<^clv flow— Their morals, like their pleasures, are but low • l-or, as refinement stops, from sire to son rnaitered, unimj.roved the manners run • Arid love's and friend.ship's finely jminted dart l^ill l.lunted from each indurated heart Some sterner virtues o'er the mountain's brea.st -May sit like falcons cowering on the nest ■ l>ut all the gentler moral.s-such as [day Ummish lHt''s more cultured walks, and charm the These, far dispersed, on timorous pinions fly io .sjH.rt and flutter in a kinder sky. To kinder skies, where gentler manners iviirn Uurn. an, !• ranee dis,.la,vs her bridit doinii" ' f-'ii.v, sprghtly land ol' niirlli aii,l .social ease leased with thyself. wi„„u all the world ,.an picas.. How often have I l.-d thy sportive choir \\ ith tuneless j,ipe beside the murnniririir Loire [ \\ hen shadini: elms along the inarL'in grew And freshened from the w.ive the z,.,.lnr flc"- ■ And haply, though my harsh touch flattering still But mocked all tun., and marred the dancer's skill- let would the village jiraise my wondrous power And dance, forgetful of the noontide hour I i f. * j ^ 1 f -11 ^( r a»? BEAUTIFUL GEMS. Alike all ligcs : (huucs ui' alieiLlit days Have led their children through tlie mirthful maze ; And the gay grandsirc, skilled in gestie lore. H;is frisked beneath the burden of three-score. tSo blest a life these thonghtles.-; realms display, Thus idly ))usy rolls their worlil ;iuay. Theirs are those arts thai mind to mind endear, r'or lionor forms tlie social temper liere : n Hior chat praise which real merit gaiiis, ' 'r e'eii imaginary worth obtains, lit've iiasses current: paid from hand to hand, Jt shifts in siiK'iidid traffic round tlie land : From courts to camps, to cottages it strays. And all are taught an avarice of praise ; 'J'hey jilease. arc pleased ; tiicy give to get esteeui ; Till, seeming blest, they irrow to wiiat they seem. But wliile this .softer art tlu Ir iiliss supplies, It gives their follies also room to rise ; For praise too dearly loved or warmly .sought Enfeebles all intern \1 striMigth of thought ; And the feak sotd. within itself unblest, Loans for all jdeasure on another's lireast. Hence ostentation here, with tawdy art. Pants for the vulgar praise which fools impart ; Here vanity assumes her pert grimace. And trims her robes of frieze with copper lace ; Mere beggar pride defrauds lier daily cheer. To boast on splendid bampiet once a year ; To mind .still turns where shiftini; fa.shion draws, Xor weighs the solid worth of self-apidause. To men of otlier minds my fancy flies. Embosomed in the deep where Holland lies. Methinks her patient sons before me stand. Where the broad ocean leans against the land, And, sedulous to stop the coming tide. Lift the tall rampire's artificial |)ride. Onward, methinks, and diligently slow, The firm connected bulwark seems to grow, ■Spreads its long arms amidst tlie watery roar. Scoops out an emi)ii-e, and iisurjis the shore; While the pent ocean, risiiiir o'er the pile. Sees an aniphit»ious world beneath him smile ; The slow canal, the ycllowblds.-omcd vale. The willow-tufted bank, tlie gliiling sail, Tlie crowdeil mart, tlie cultivated jilain, A new creation rescued from his reiirn. Thus wlnle aroutid tlic wavo-subjeeted soil Imiiels the native to repcnt"d toil. [ndu*tnous habits in eacli bosom reign. And industry begets a love of gain. Hence all the good from opulence that springs. With all tho.se ills superfluous treasure bring.^. ] Are here displayed. Th.ir mudi-loved wealth iui- | parts I • 'onvenience, plenty, elegance, and arts; i i>iit view tiiom closer, craft and fraud appear, I !.''e:! lib(>rty itself is bartered here ; ! At gold's superior charms all freedom fliee '1 be ni'edy sell it, and the ridi ni.ui 1 iiy.s A land of tj-rants, and a den ol' slaves. Here wretches seek lishonorable graves, And, calmly bent, to servitude confcnm. Dull as their lakes tiiat .slumber in the storm. Heavens ! how unlike their Bekdc sires of old ) Rough, poor, content, ungovernably Itold, War in each breast and i'recdom on eadi brow • How much unlike the sons of Britain now ! Fired at the .sound, my genius sjireails her wing. Anil flics where Britain courts the we-tern spring; Where lawns extend that scorn Arcadian pride. And brighter streams than famed Hydaspes glide. There all around the gentlest breezes stray. There gentler music melts on every siu-ay , Creation's mildest charms are tbcre combined, Extremes are only in the master's mind. Stern o'er each bosom re-.son holds her state, With daring aims irregularly great. Pride in their jiort. delianc(; in their eye, I see the lords of liuman kind i)a.ss by : Intent on high designs, a thouglitfuj nanil, By Ibrius unfasliioned, fresh from n-uure's hand, Pierce in their nativ(' hardiness of soul. True to imagined right above contro! — While e'en the peasant boasts these rights to scan, And learns to venerate himself as man. Thine, freedom, thine the blessings jiictured heni. Thine are those charms that dazzle and endear 1 Too blest indeed were such without alloy , But, fostered e'en by freedom, ills annoy ; That indciiendcncc Briioiis prize too high Keeiis iiian from man, and breaks the social tie ; The .self-depondcnt lordjings stand alone, All claims that biii.l and sweeten life unknown . Hero, by the txmds of nature feebly held, Minds combat minds, repelling and reiicllod ; Ferments arise, imiirisoned factions roar. Hepressed ambition struggles round her shore Till, overwrought, the general .system feels Its motion stoii, or frenzy fire the wheels. Nor this the worst : as nature's ties decay. As duty, love, and honor fail to sw.ay, Fictitious bonds, the bonds of wealth ajid law. Still gather strength, and force unwilling awe, Hence all obcdieiiee Iiows to these alone. .\nd talent sinks, and nu'rit weejis unknown; Till time may come when, strijiped ol' all her id of .scholars and the nurse of arms. rnui, I Where noble stems transmit tiie jiatriot flame. I Where kings have toiled and poets wrote for fame, I ( >nc sink of level avarice shall lie. ! And scholars, .soldiers, kings, unhonored die. I But think not, thus when-frecdom's ills T state, ! I mean to flatter kings or court the great : THE FIRESIDE St Vc iMiwt rs of truth, that hid my soul aspire, Far i'roui luy busoiu drive the low ilosire ! And thou, fair frei'doui, taught ahke to feel The rabble's rage and tyrant's angry ;^tut■l ; Thou transitory flower, alike undone By jiroud contemjit or fav(ji''s fostering sun- Still may thy blooms the eliangeful eliiue endure ! I only would repress them to seenre. For just experience tells, in every .soil, Tl'.at those that think must govein those that toil; And all that freedom's highest aims ean reai'h Is but to lay jn-ojiortioned loads on each. Hence, should one order disjiroportioned L'row, Its double weight must ruin all below. ()h then how blind to all i;...v trutli rwjuires Who think it freedom when a part aspires ! Calm is my soul, nor ajtt to rise in arms, f]xceiit when fast a|)proaehin;' danger warms ; But when contending ehi-fs [ilockade the tliro'nc. Contracting regal power to strelcii their own ; When I behold a i'actious band atrree To call it freedom when themselves are i'rce. Each wanton judge new penal statutes draw, Laws grind the ]ioor, and rich men rule the law, The wealth of climes where savage nations roam Pillaged from slaves to jiurchase flaves at home- Fear, i)ity, justice, indignation, start. Tear off reserve and bare my swelling heart. Till, half a jtatriot, half a coward grown, I fl3 from i)etty tyrants to the throne. Yes, brother, curse with me that baleful hour, When first ambition struck at r(".'al power ; And thus, polluting honor in its source. Gave wealth to sway the mind with double force. Have we not seen, round Britain's peojiled shore, Her useful sons exelian.ircd for useless ore':' Seen all her triumphs but dettriiction haste. Like flaring tapers brightening as they waste? Seen oinilence, her grandeur to maintain. Lead stern depopulation in her train. And over fields where scattered hamlet.^ rcse In barren, solitary jionip repose? Ilave we not seen, at pleasure's lilgrim stray.s Through tangled forests and through d.angerous way.- Where br.ists with man divided empire claim. Anil the brown Indian marks with murderous aim ; There ,^ while above the giddy tempest flics, Ari'.l ;i!l .•inituid di.vtre-.-i'ul y^.\]^ arise, The ]iensive e.-cile. Ixiidi'iir witii his woe. To stop too fearful, and too faint to go. Casts a long look where Engiand's glories shine. And bids his bo>om sympathize with mine. Vain, Very vain, njy weary search to find That bliss which only centres in the miiid ; Why have [ strayed from pleasure and repose. To seek a gooil each L'oxcrninent bestows? In every government, though terrors reicn. Though tyrant kings or tvrant laws restrain How small, „f all that human heart.s endure, 1 hat part which laws or kings can cause or cure J Stdl to our-elves in every j.Iace eonsiirned, Our own felicity we make or iind ; With secret course which no loud storms atmoy tjlides the smooth current of domestic joy. 1 he lilted axe, tlie agonizing wheel, Luke's iron crown, and Damien's bed of steel, Jo men remi,U' irom jx.wer but rarelv known,' Leave reason, faith, and conscience a'll our own. OI.IVEK (iOLDSMIra. IF OUR OLD CLOCK COULD SPEAK rT isn't a scrumptious thing to see- It's rather short o' paint — Its l.rows will always wrinkled be- lls tick is growin' faint; The circulation'.^ rniways good — The j'ints too stiffly play- It some't of'ner than it should, Forgits the time o' day; 'Twill stop an' try to recollect Fur somethin' like a Week ; But there'd be music, I susiiect. If our ol' clock could speak. In rain or shine, through peace an' v^ar. It's still been, as api)ears, A member of our family for Some five an' fifty years ; It's stood right there, through thick an thl» An' kej)' track of the sun. An' raked its own ojiininns in Bout what we mortals done ; It's hcd good watch o' \-oung an' old (An' looked so mild and meek !) Some anecdotes ther' would be told If our old clock could speak I It's stood aroun' at every meal, Mid cla.sli d' plate an' cup, An' heard tis o\ir id'? reveal, An' size the neighbors up ; It's traced our little bickcrin's, too. An' seemed to sympathize, A squintiu' softly at us through Them solemn key-hole eyes ; It s unipiriMl many n lively game O' social hide-an'-seek ; 'Twould score a number o' the same, Providin' it could s])eak ' I If ft} I ■;*■' II •■' BEAUTIFUL GEMS. How our folks drove to town one day An lef ' UN chilruii free With self-{)rciteetiri' tilings to play '' But lot the ol' clock be , " An" though we young 'uns (never still) Hadn't thougiit o' tliat before, We now couldn't let it 'lone, until It crashed down on the floor ! We tremblin' set it up again, ^ Half-runnin' with a squeak ; IVas lucky for our jackets, then, ■The critter couldn't speak 1 How ol' folks went to church, one night An' left us all— sly elves— ' If we'd conduct there— good an' right— A nieetin" by ourselves ; ^iu"n''~'''^'"' *■''''■"' ""' ^''i''' '" teens W alked 111— an' first we know, We fell to playin' "Oats i)eas beans," 'Snap up and catch 'em," too • We scattered, when, by good ear-luck, Shf heard the big gate creak ; The of clock frowned an' ticked an' struck But couldn't make out to speak ! Ah me ! the facts 'twould just let fly, Suppose it had the power ! Of courtin' chaps, when, on the sly, They turned it back an hour ; Of weddin's— holdin' tender yet, The bride's last virgin grace ; ' Of fun'rals— where it peejied to get A good look at the face : It knows the inside-out o' folks— An' nature's every freak ; I'd write a book if I could coax That wise ol' clock to sj)eak I Still straight as any gun it stan's Ag'ui the kitchen wail : An' slowly waves its solemn ban's Outlivin' of us all ! I venerate some clcjcks I've seen, As e'en a'most sublime : They form revolvin' links between Kfarnity an' time. Ari^ when y(,u come to take the pains Jo strike a .Ircamy stivak. The figurative fact remains That all the clocks can speak WILL TON. T Sw' THE PRIME OF LIFE. UST as I thought I was growing old. _^ Keady to sit in my easv-eliair . watch the world wit!, ;, )u,irt ..;.„„.; -nld And smile at a folly I w.mld not share ' m\ Rose came by with a smile for me And I am thinking that fortv years isn t the age that it seems to be. When two pretty brown eyes are near. Bless me! of life it is ju..t the prime, A fact that 1 hope she will understand • And forty years is a jierfbct rhyme lo dark brown eyes and a pretty hand. These gray Iiairs are by chance, you rce- lioys are sometimes gray, I am told ; Kose came by with a smile for me Just as I thought I wa.s getting 'old. WALTEli LKARNKD. MY AUNT. aunt ! my dear unmarried aunt ! , Long years have o'er her vlown et still she strains the aching cbusp That binds her virgin zone ; 1 know it hurts her- though she l.,oks As cheerful as she can ; Her waist is ampler than her life, For life is but a si)an. My aunt ! my poor deluded aunt ! Iler hair is almost gray ; W'hy will she train that winter curl III such a spring-like wav ? How can she lay her glasses down. And say she reads as well. When, through a double eonve.K lens, She just makes out to spell ! Her father— grandpapa ! forgive This erring lip its smiie.s— Vowed ..he should make the finest girl \\ ithin a hundred miles ; He sent her to a stylish school ; 'Twas in her thirteenth June • And with her, as the rules re(|uired, " Two towels and a spoon." They braced my aunt against a board To make her straight and tall • They laced her uj), they starved her down J o make her light and small • They pinelied her feet, they singed her hair lliey .screwed it up with pins ;— O never nmrtal suffered more In iienanee for her sins. So, when my preeirms aunt was done, My giandsiro brouirht her back (By canst thou, mother, for a moment think That we. thv children, wliun n!d atw shall shed Its lilMticliiiiL' lionors on ihy wai-y head, F CouM i'nmi our best of duties ever shrink.? Soon -r the sun from his high sphere sIkiuM siid Than we, ungrateful, leave thee in that day, To i»ine in soliiinle thy iii'e away. Or shun thee, tottering on tlie grave's cold brink. Banish the thuuL'lit I Where'er our steps may ruaiU/ O'er smiling plains, or wastes withdiit a tree. Still will liiinl nu'innry point our hearts tn thee. And paint thr plea-ui- 's nf thy i)eaeci'ul home ; While duty bids lis all thy grief assuage. And smooth the iiillow lA' tiiy sinking age. IIENKY KlUKK WHITE, DAILY TRIALS. BY A SENSITIVE M.W. I IT. there are times When all this fret and tumult that we hear IH) seem iikjiv stale than to the .sexton's ea< His own dull eliimes. Ping dong I ding dong ! The wiirld is in a simmer like a sea Over a pent volcano — woe is me All the day long ! From crib to shroud ! Nurse o'er our cradles screameth lullaby. And friends in boots tramji round us as we die, Snuffling aloud. At morning's call The small-voiced pug-dog welcomes in the sun, And flea-bit mongrels, wakening one by one. Give answer all. When evening dim Draws round us. then the lonely catcr-waiil. Tart solo, sour duet, and general .siiuall — These are our hymn. Women, with tongues Like iH)lar needles, ever on the jar ; Men, jilugless word-spouts, whose deep fountains arc Within their lungs. Children, with drums Strapped round tlietn by the fond paternal a.-* ; Peripatetics with a blade of grass Between their thumbs. Vagrants, whose arts Have caged some devil in their mad mailiine. Which grinding, .sipieaks, with husky groans between. Come out by starts. Cockneys that kill Thi!! hor'^rs of a Sunday ; men, with eiami'. Hoarse as yuung liisons roaring for their dams Fri.m hill to hill. that we licar c suston's ea< deep fountains THE THREE FRIENDS. i THK I'lRI'SIDH. 41 Soldierti, with gwns, Making' a imiwince of llio blessed iiir ; Child-fryint.' lu'lliucii, eliildren in duHjiair, iScreecliiiiK tor buua. Storms, thuntlors, waves ! Hdvvl, iTiLsli, and helldW till yi- ^et your fill ; Ye soiuftiuies rest ; men never can be still But in their graves. OI.IVEH WKNUKLI. HOLMES. DREAMIN' O' HOME. CAN'T jes' tell what's eome to her, an' yet I think it's elear Thi So there she sits a-dreainin', till I ge» to dreamin'. too, An' when her Ik atl droops on uiy breast an' sleep Ms like th(^ di!vv An' eloses them sweet eyes o' hers, once more we seem to be In the old home, where we'll rest some day together— her and uie. THE FISHERS COTTAGE. Klii'SI Tin ClfHllA!!, I CAN'T jes' tell what's eome to her, an' yet I think it's elear ; '*7 ^ T*K sat by the fisher's cottajre. That .sumthin's ni.in' wrong o' late— to see her ' \\ J ,, '^"'' '""''*''l '■" t'"' stiirniv tide ; sittin' there V )/ The eveiiinir uiiht came risiiifr. A-drcamin' in the doorway, with that Ioi'k into her eyes, As cf they still were re.stin' on the ole time fields an' skies. She's .always dreauiin', drcamin' o' the life we lel't be- hind. The little two-roomed cottage where the mornin' glories twined ; The roses in the garden, ilie yellow sunfiowers tall, "^'hu violets — but she herself the sweetest flower o' all. JTou see, she useter sit there in the doorway, so con- tent. The sunflowers folleriii' the sun, no matter where he went ; The brown bees sippin' honey and a buzzin' roun' the place. The roses eliuibin' uji to her an' .■ thing. I And fill is-.y h^art of Iv^irt^ -.vlHTe ^i- -ith installed you, In setting my Virginia's spirit free. My mother — my own mother, who died early, It's hard to git away from ii old feehns' bound to rise. 4n' make a runnin" over >■■ a woman's tender eyes. Was but the uioiher of my.scif ; but yo* 42 BEAUTIFUL GEMS. Are inofhor to the one I lovod so doarl.v Ami tliii.i iiru (Ii'iiivr timn the iii,.tlin knew »>• that intitiity with whii'h my wile WiM duurur to luy soul tliaii iu own .soul-lilo. KUOAIt Al.l.KN I'OK. EVENINO, BV A TAll Ik, eAY hiith put on hi.s jackot, and around llw biirninj? husoin buttonud il witli .stars. Iluro will I lay mo on the vclvut gni.s.s, Tliat is like padditiK to .•artlis meaLTo' ribs, And lii.ld comiuunion with thi« tliitiK.s about mu Ah luo ! how lovely i.s the golden bruid That hind.s the skirt of nislit'.s licscendinir robo ' Ihu thin Icave.s, .|uivorinK <>n tli.ir niiken ihivad.s Ihi uiake a mu.-tu; like ti) ru.stlinK .sitin, As) the light breozw smuotb their downy nap. Ha I what i.M this that rises i(. mv toueh So like a cushion ? ("an it be a cabbaso ? ' It i.s, It m that d. eply injured flower, \\hich boys do fh.ut us witb;-but vet 1 love thee, Tliou giant rose, wrapped in a green surtout J».m btless in Kden i li,.u didst blu.^h ii> bri.L'ht As these, thy ])uny brethren ; and thv breath Sweetened the fragrance of lier spiev'air ■ But now thou .seeiuest like a bankrupt beau Stripped of his gau.ly hues and essenees. And growing i)urtly iii his s.jber garments. Is that a swan that rides upon the water? V no. It is that other ginile bird, VVhieh is the patn.n of our noble calling. I well remember, in mv early years When these young band, lirst closed upon a goose ■ 1 liave a sear upon my thimble finger, \\ hieh chronicles the hour of young ambition My father wa, a tailor, and hi.s father And my sires grandsire, all of them ^ere tailors ; J hey had an ancient -oosc-it was an heirloom Prom SOUK' remoter tailor of our race It hapi.ciied I did .see it on a time ^\hen none was near, and I did deal with it. And It did burn me— (), most fearfully ! It is a joy to straighten out one's limbs And leap elastic fnjm the IcTcl counter Leaving the ,,etty grievances of earth ' llie breaking thread, the din of clasliing shears And all the needles that do wound the spirit ■or such a pensive hour of soothing siien,,. ' Kind Nature, shuffling iu her loose un.lres.' Ijays l)aro her shady bosom ; I can feel U ith all ar,.uii,l me : I can hail the flowers i hat spriL' e:n-th's mamlc. and von .(uinf l,ird I hat rides the stream, is to nic as a bn.rher. i J he vulgar know not all the hidd..n v-rkvt.. I ,111 lo mo, Where Nature stow.^ nway her lovelinew. Hut tins iiiiiiatuial posture of the |,.„,, Cramp.s my cxtciide.l calvs, and I must go \V liere I can cul them in iheir wonted fashion. OLIVER WKNDKLl. llol.viM. THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS. IIKKK is a rouper, whoso name is Death And, with hi.s sii'klc keen. He re.aps the beardi'd grain at a livath. And the flowers that grow between. " fliall I have naught that is fair?" .sal h he • '• Have naught but the bea.dcd grain ' rhoui.'h the breath. d' I he.se flower- issw I will give them all back again." He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves ■ It was for the Lord (d' I'aradise He bound them in liis sheaves. " mV 'i',"'' '""* '"''''' "'" '''^'•''*' flowerets gay," I lie Ucaper saicj, and smiled ; "Dear tokens of the earth are they, Where lie was once a child. "They shill all bloom iu li.'lds of light, rransplantcd by my cure. And .saints, upon their garments white, Ihesc sacred blo.s.soms wear." And the motliorgave, in tears and pain, llie flowers .she most did h)ve ; y'h; kfiew she should find them all again in thefleids of light above. O. iiot in cruelty, not in wrath, The Reaper came that day ; ' Twas an angel visited the grJen earth, And took the flowers away. HENRY WADSWORTn LONGFEI.I.OW THE SOLDIER'S DREAM. 0Vn biigles sang truce; for the night-elou.l had lowered. And the sentinel stars sot their watch in the sky ; And thousands had .sunk on the ground overpowered- The weary to sleep, and the woun.led to die. When reposing that night on my pallet of straw Hy the wolf-^scaring fag„t that guarded the shaln, ' , At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw [ And thrice ere the morning 1 dreamt it again. Mcthought^from th,. battle-field s drea.lful arrav i-ar. lar I h.i.i ,„.oned „„ a desolate tru^k ■ " Iwas autumn-aiid .sunshine aro.se on the wav Jo the home of my fathers, that weh'oimd me back THE FIREvSIDE. 43 FLOWERS. f fiftw to thp plcwnnt fii'Iil^ tniviTj'cil no iA\ III liCi'H iiHiriiiim riiari'li, wlicii my liiinoiii wiis yoiinj; ; 1 liriirl iriy i^vii iiKiuiilaiii cdiU.i iiliMiiiii; al.it't, AiiU knew thu swoct strain that tlif curii-reupcrs Buni;. Then |i!iMlKt'il v?o till! wiiH'-(Mi|», ami Ibmlly I hwute I'Vimi my hdtsit; and my wcfpiiiK tVii'iid^ i.ovit to part ; My little onoH ki-st'(l me i tliousiiinl times o'<''. Ami my wile sobbud uioud in hur 1u1iu;h« hi huart. Stay, dtuy with tin !— rent ; tlmu art wciiry and worn !— Ami liiin wan tliuir war-iirokcn .MoMici' i.i stay ; Hut sorrow returned with tiie dawniim ol' nmrn, And tliu voice in my dreaming ear melted away. TIIOVAM LAMrUEI.I,. w THE DORCHESTER GIANT. KHK waa u giant in time of old, A mighty one was he ; IFe had a wife, hut ^lu' whu a .scold, So he kept her A\\\l in his mammoth told ; And he hail children three. It happened to lie nn election day, And the giants were elio ■ And, if sonii' pleasant aft i mi ion. V'ou'll ask me out to riiK , The whole of the .ttor' I will tell. And you shall see where the puddings fell, And pa., for the punch beside. OI.IVKI: WBNDKI.I, IIOLMKS. THE QUIET MIND. WFHT are the thoughts tlmt savor of content— The ipiiet mind i.- richer than a crown ; Sweet are the iML'hts in carele.ss slumber spent— The poor estate scorns fortune's angry frown : Such sweet content. mkIi minds, such sleep, such blia» Beggars et)joy, when princes oft do mi.ss. The homely hou.se that harbors quiet rest, 'I'lii' eotlage that aibirds no pride or care, The mean that 'u'rees with country music best, Till! sweet con.sort of mirth and niusic's fare. Obscured life .sets down a ty|ie of bliss : A mind' content both crown and kingdom is. HDIIKKT OREENE. THE OLD BARN. rTTIIl'] barn, the old barn, oh ! its dark walls were X ^V ith the records most fair in my tablet of life ; And a rare barn it was, for, .search twenty miles round. Such another brave building van not to be i'ouiid. 'Twas large as an ark, 'twas as strong as a church, 'Twas the ohicken's re.sort, 'twas the young raven's perch ; There the bat flapped his wings, and the owlet m...... screech, Secure in the gable-ends, far out of reach. For many a year had the harvestdiome wain Creaked up to its door with ilii> last lo.ul of craii! ■. And 'twas evident time had lieeii playing his pranks With the mo.ss-garnishcd roof and tlie storm-lu iten planks. 4t BEAUTIFUL GEMS. n I (I r^ II -i' m r*.i I] !! i; A woe thing, thpy tumbled mo into its mow ; And loft mo to soriimlilo out, Iloiivon knows Iiow, A wild, morry girl, the old kirii wus tlio sjxit Wliioh afFordod delight that is still unlorjrot. Twas a liirthday, oiio soion was walking lif'o's stage, In youth's pnmdosr of oliaractcis— just conio of age ; Many joys woi'o devised — but the eliuseii of all Was to oluar out the old barn, and "' get uji a ball." Wo had prayed, we had hoped that the lanes might be dry. That no cloud would oonie over the UKion-lightod sky ; Hut, alas ! 'twas Novonilier. and fog, sleet, and gloom Made the night of our jubilee dark as the tomb. But, hark I— wliat loud voieo.s— what rumbling of wheels — What stepjiing in puddles— what tragical ".squeals ! " While close-tilted v.'agons and mud-spatterod carts Sot down u rare cargo of happy young hearts. What a danco was the first— with what jdeasurc wo went Down the middle and up, till our breathing was spent ! Though Musard might have shruggoil at a bit of a strife Twixt the notes of the fiddle and key of the fife. Then the rat-hunt— oh, mercy ! wo hear poets sjioak Of the tug of lieree battle when "(ireek joins with (ireck ; '' Rut war hold as wilil and as deadly a reign When the terriers met the destroyers of grain. The smith left his bellows— t lie miller his sack.— It was lucky that business grew sudileidy slack ; The thatcher was there, and the tliatcher's boy too. And somehow, the butcher had nothing to do. The S(|uire lent his whip and his voice to the fray ; He. of course, only "chanced to bo riding that way ; " And the master — the iiloughniiin— the rich and the poor. Stood equality's jostling about the barn door. There was bustlinir old rincher, uU fierceness and bark ; And even fat IMdo. as gay as a lark ; v'^nap, A'i.\cn. and l!nb, ami another fidl score. For though rats niitdit be many— the dogs were oft more. The barn was llie place win re the beams ami the rope Uavc our mischicnus liiculties plenty of M-opo ; And when rick-'Mies were found, kmilled, severed, and I'rayed : Nut a word did we breathe of the swiu'.'s we had made. "Hide and seek" was the g.inic that clcHirlited us Uio.st, When we stealthily crept beliind pillar and pn.st ; When the law was enl'oreed that " Inuno " should not bo Won Before we'd encircled the barn in our run. I'd a merry heart then- but 1 .-icarci^ly know why I should look into memory's page with a sigh ; 'Tis ungratel'ul to turn lo the paM with regret, When we hold a liiir portion nl' li.appiness yet. My laugh in that day was a sphiied shout, But still it is lieaicl to ring jr around his slumbers ; The ghastly dun shall worry his sleep. And constables cluster around him. And he shall crceii from the wood-hole deep ^N'horo their spectre eyes have i'ound l.im ! Ay! gather your reins, and crack your thong, And bid your steed go lastor; lie does not know, as ho scrandiles aloi.'L', That ho has a fool for his master ; And hurry away on your lonely ride. Nor deign from the mire to save me ; I will paddle it stoutly at your side Willi (he tandem that nalure gave me ! OI.IVKR WK.NDKl.l. lOL.MK.i. THE FARMER'S HOUSE. FR'IM " v:,\N(iKI r\K." IIOILY buildod with rafters of oak, the houfo of (he I'annrr Stood on the sidc^ of a hill eommandini! ')ip sea ; and a sha THE FIRESIUE. more grew by the • -'•< '-V "--e Such .s tb.. tr.,v,.n,.r ., ; • , , '^''"'•"'"'"•''""W-'l'-'t'tsortlielrozciislmre, nndside '"'"" ''""""" ''^' "'^' i^ "'"■" '">' ^»'^- '"">•' tossin. in the .ale. IJuilt oer a box fbr the poor, or the blcs>cd image of ' "' '" '"'' '•""'' '"''' "■"'l'"^' ■'•'■'"•'"' -i' ' .Alary. Farther dinyn, on the ^lope of the hill, was the well with its nio.-i.-i-grdwn ISiickct. fastened with iron, ami near it a trough for the horses. Shielding the lioii.s*' fnmi storms, on the north, were the barns and tin. I'arin-yaid. There stood the broad-wlieelcd wains aiw! the anlii|Ue idoiigiis and the harrows : There \yei(' the Iblds fur the sheep; and there, in his feathered seraglio. i .'sirutted the lonlly turkey, and crowed the cock, witli i the ,>ieli'-sani(; ■' | ■\'oice that in ages of old had startled the iienitent i I'eter. : I'.iiistnig with hay were the barns, themselves a village, i in each one " | i'.ir o'er the gable projected a roof of tlialrh ; and a staircase, i'lider the .'sheltering caves, leil up to the odorous corndoft. 1 Tliere too the dove-('ot stood, with its meek and inno- cent inaiates Murmuring ever of love ; wliile above in the variant i breezes Numberless noi>y weathercocks rattU'd nnd sang of mutation. HF.NItY W.\I)SW()UTII I.ONfiFKLI.OW. E THE EARLY HOME. ^ O.MK of our chililhood ! how affeetimi .•linL's .\nd hovers round thee with her seraph wings ! Dearer thy hills, though clad in autumn Ill-dW'l, Tliaii fairest summits which the cedars crown ! Sw( ter the I'ragraiiee id' thy summer breeze Tliaii all Arabia breathes along the seas ! ■flir stranirer's gale wafts Imine the exili.',s sitdi, i^'.M' llie heart's temple is its nwn blue ^kv '. ■' liappii.st they, whose early love iinclia'n<:ed, I b'lies undissolved, and friendship uiicsinmL-ed, liivd of their wanderiMLTs. still ,.an deiL-n to see Love, hopi's. and frieiid.ship, centring all in thee ! .\iid thou, my village ! as again [ treail Aiii-rl-t thy livinir, and aKive thy dca.i . ni'iiiirh some fair playmates iruard with chaster fears ' '"■"■ '•' ''^■■i. ffi'owii iioly wi:',i thi' lapse of years ; cii.iVKi: wi:.Niii:i.i, iioi..Mi:s. THE WELCOME BACK. A\ I'il'I'f is tlir hoiiv tliat brings us home, I /^i Whrv.. all will spriiiL' to meet us : kil/ U licre ban. is aro striving as we com >. To be the lirst to gn'ct us. ^\■hcn the world hath spent its frowns and wrath .\nd care been .sorely pressini.' ; 'Tis sweet to turn from our roving path. And find a tireside lilessing. Oh ! .joyfully dear is the hone ward track. If we are but sure of a welcome bick. Wliat do we reek on a dreary way. Though lonely and Jieiiightcd ; If we know there are lips to i-liiile our stay, .\nd (.yes that will beam, love liL.hi,.,rf' " \\ hat is the worth of your diamond ray. To the glaiici' that flashes pleasure ; When the Words that welcome back betray ^\ e form a heart's chief treasure'.' Oh ! .joyfully dear is our homeward track, If We are but sure ol' a weleoine back. HI.IZA COOK. FOR ANNIE. fllANK Heaven! the cri.si.s, The danger is past And the liniiering illiies.s Is over at last — And the fever called " Living" Is conipiei'ed at last. Sadly. T know, I am shorn of my strengtb, Anil no mu.scle 1 move As I lie at full leiii:ili — But no matter I— i 1. cl I am better at length. And T rest .so mini oscd'y .Now. in my bed. Tli:if any b.. holder .'\Ii:jlit fancy me dead — iMiglit start at beholding mr. Thilikiiu' me dead. The moaniiitr and irro.iiiin!;, The sighing and sobbin.!. m i 46 i m BEAUTIFUL GEMS. Are qiiieted now, Witli that li(irril)lo tlirobbinf At lif:iil— all. iliat lidiTilile, liuniblu tlirubhinj; I The sickness, thu nausea, The iiitiless pain. Have (•oas<'(l. with the fever That niaddoneil my brain — With the lever eallod " Living " That burned in luy bruin. And (), of all tortures T/((it torture the worst Has abated— the terrible Torture of thirst For the naplithaline river Of passion aecurst ! I have drunk of a water Tliat (luencheii all thirst, Of a water that flows, AVitli a lullaby sound. From a spring but a very few Feet under jrround — From a cavern not very far Down under ground. And ah ! let it never I5e foolishly said That my niom it is gloomy And narrow my bed ; For man never slept In a different bed — And, to shrp, you must .slumber In ,just such a bed. My tantalized spirit Here bland'y reposes, Forgetting, or never Regretting, its ruses — Its old agitations Of myrtles ami roses; For now, while so ((uictly Lyinsr. it fancies A holier odor About it, of pan.sie.s — A rosemary odor. Conimingled with paiisies, With rue aiul the beautiful Puritan pansies. And so it lies hapjiily, ISathing in many A dnam ol' the truth And the beauty of Annie — Drowned in a bath Of the tresses of Annie. She tenderly ki.'s.sed nic, She fondly caressed. And I hen I fell gently To sKeii "11 lier breast — Deejily to .>.leep From the heaven of her breast When the liglit was extinguislied,, She covered me warm. And she prayed to the angels To keep me from harm — To the (pieen of the angelh. To shield me from harm. And I lie so composedly Now in my bed, (Knowing her love,) That you fancy me dead ; — And I rest .so contentedly Now in my bed, (With her love at my breast,) That you fancy me (lead- That you shudder to look at me, Thinking me dead : But my heart it is brighter Than all of the many Stars in the sky ; For it sparkles with Annie — It glows with the light Of the love of my Annie — With the thought of the light Of the eyes of my Annie. EUOAU ALLEN POB. THE HAIR-PIN. *7t7T*HAT is home without a hair -pin. I X J When the glove hook can t be found, V: )£ And the street car is approaching, To the northern dejjots bound? Or the paper cutter's missing. As tile thrilling tale she reads; And the h(>ro's jilamied eldpemcnt On an uncut page succeeds ? What is home without a hair-i)in Deftly bent tipon the floor ; When one finds it, walking baivl'iKjt — Hark, was that a voice that swcjre, Sending echoes tliniugh the darkness, With a swif'l prol'ano disiiatch, Till they swarmed uiioii a toothpick And Ijecame a parlor match '■' Oh ! the wicked little hair-i)iii— Treacherous wire of dual jioint — You were better b i in tresses Tliari in wrcnci'.ing out a joint ! J. U. ALmif, THE FIRESIDE. it I J. B. ALUBK. A GRANDSIRE'S DREAM. SIT within mj- iri>;k'-ii(jc)k, So olJ mill gray, I know , I close my eyes and backward lodk : 'Tis fifty years ago — Ere youth lias fled, or hope is dead, And life's sands running low. The Christinas bells are chiming sweet ('Tis fifty years ago). There conies tiie fall of fairy feet Across the trackless snow ; And hearts beat high, to pleasures nigh, Just fil'ty years ago. From out the ivied manor-house I see a golden gl(jw , And merry voices welcome us ('Tis fii'ty years ago) — A laughing band stand hand in hand, A crowd pass to and fro. In hall and homestead, great and small Sing blithely as tliey go ; The .smile of one is smile of all ('Tis fifty years ag(j), And hearts are light and eyes are bright, That Christmas long ag(j. A face looks out from wealth of hair. That waves o'er brow of snow ; And brown eyes droop with shyest air ('Tis fifty years ago), And cheeks are flushed and voices hushed To whispers sweet and low. A kerchief crossed a swelling breast, The heart that tlirobbcd below Grew restless with it« own unrest ; For, all, how could you know Tliat I loved you, so well, .so tnie. Just fifty years ago ? We trod a measure through the hall Witii stately steps and slow — Once more I hear your footsteps fall, Your bright cheeks brighter glow. And you are mine, by right divine. Of love — long yeai-s ago ! Your dainty cap, your goklen hair, Your muslin kerchief's snow ; Your tiny feet that cross the stair Less swift than mine, I know ; All these I hear and see, my dear, As fifty years ago. How fair you looked I How fond I loved 1 "Twas well it should be so ; f gaze up,on your iiieiurc now Till tears begin to flow ; And all the past is held as fast As fifty yi>ars ago. It is not fifty U'ars— and time Has stayed for us. I know ; AVe hear the merry Cliristmas chime. We see the falling snow ; And hand in liaiid so close we stand My love of long ago. The voices sweet of friends who greet Are chise to me, I trow; The fire-gleams dance in radiant heat. The holly-berries glow. I havo but dreamt of days I've spent Since fil'ty years ago. Alas, who stands demurely here. With eyes of tender glow, So like the eyes of you, my dear, In days of h^ng ago';* She smiles, I ween, at grandsire's dream Of fifty years ago ! THE BUCKET. §0W de.ar to this heart are the .scenes cf my childliood, When fond recollection presents them tvere glov ng, And (piiek to the wliite-iicbblcd bottom it fell ; Then so(m, with the emblem of truth overflowin'.' And drippioL' will, Incss, it ro.«e from tlie w II— The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket. The moss-covered bucket, arose from the well. How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive i As poised on the curb it inclined to my lips ! Not a full blushing L'oblet could tempt nie to lenve k 'I he brightest that beauty or revelry sips , And now, far removed from tlie lovcl habitation, The tear of regret will intrusively swell. As fancy reverts to my father's ijlantation, And sighs for the i)U(ket that liamrs in the well— The old oaken bucket, the iron-lxnind bucket, The moss-covered bucket tliat liangs in the well ! SA.MUKL WOOUWORTH. SCENES m mTu^t. cA^ 0^^- EVENING ON THE RIVER. FkuM " K\ ANdKl.IM;." ,l.| j J OFTLY the evening caiuc. The sun / iViini till' wi'stuni horizon Liice :i ni;it'i(.'i:in cxtenileil liis jtold- en \v;Hiil n'ci- the liinilM-iipe; M Twiiilvling vapors arose ; ami sky j{Va and water arnl forest Vk Seemed all on tire at the touch, and melted and iniiiirled tosretlier. ''< ' \ I A, iiike torrents gush the summer rills ; X Through winter's moss and dry dead leave: es The bladed gras.> revives and lives. I'ushes the inonlderinL' waste away, And glimpses to the April day. In kindly showiv and sunshine bud The branches of the dull irray wood ; ('lit troiu its suiMicd and sheltered nooks ')*he bl'.ie eye of the vioh t looks; (■IS) The southwest wind is warndy blowing. And odors I'rom the .■^pnngiiig grass. The pine-tree and the sassafras. Are with it on its errands going. JOHN (u;i:i;ni.i Ai- w'iittier. THE WIND IN A FROLIC j ^nrTFIE wind one inoriiing sprang up from .sleep, X. Now for « niad-caj) galloping ('InLse ! I 11 make a eommotioii in every i)lace ! " So it swept with a biistio right throngh a great town, Creaking the signs, and scattering ilown Shutters ; and whisking, witii nierciless sipia'l.s, Old women's bonnets and gingeiliri aii stalls : There never was heard a much lustier shout, As th(! api)les and riranges tundiled about ; And the u?"hins. that stand with their thu'vish eyes Forever on watch, ran off each with a jnize. Then away to the field it w^'ut blistering and hum- ming. And the cattle all wondered whatever was coming; It plucked by the tails the grave matroidy cows, And tossed tlie colts' manes all over their brows, Till, offended at sueh a familiar salute. They till turned their backs and .stood sulkily mute. So on it went, caperiiig, and jiliiying its jiranks. Whistling with reeds on the broad river's banks, I'liffing the birds as they sat on the spray. Or the traveller grave on the king's highway. It was not too nice to hustle the bags Of the beggar, and flutter his dirty rags : 'Twas so bolil. that it feared not to play its joke With the doctor s wig. or the gentleimm's cloak. Through the forest it roared, and cried, isayly, " Nov,-, 'V'oti sturdy old o.aks, I'll make you bowl" And it n)ad(! them bow withoui more ado, Or cracked their great branches tiirough and through. Then it nished, like a monster, on cottage and farm. Strikiii!.' their dwellers with sudden alarm. So they ran out like bees when threatened with harm. There were dames with their kerchiefs tied t)Vor tin ir ea|)s. To see if their poultry were free from mishaps : The turkeys they gobbled, the neese screamed aloud, And the hens crejit to roost in a ternii- d crowd ; There was riariiiL' of ladders, and logs laying on, Where the thatch from the roof threatened soon to bo gone. ily blowing. IlillL'. MAI- WIITTIEB. iOLIC up frciiii sleep, now I'ui- iv leap ! L' cliiise ! ury place ! " fih a great town, iWIl CSS si|ua'ls, .1 stalls : r slmut, liiHit ; ir tliievislv eyes a jiiize. steiing and Iiuui- ■ wa.H coming ; ronly eows, their brows, B, I sulkily mute. its jiraiiks. rer's banks, pray, lik'bway. jrs itgs : ay its joke nan's cloak. 'd, Jravlv, " >iov,-, ow!"" ' ado, ijrb and tlirou!.'!i, on cottage and liiriu, ened witli liarni. Is tied over tin ir mishaps ; rrcanicd aloud, id crowd ; s layin.p nn, itened soon to bo U : SCENES IN NATURE. 49 But the wind had swept on, and met in a lane VVitli a sehool-boy, wlio jianted and utruggl -d in vain : For it tossed him, and twirled hiiu, then passed, and he stood AVith his hat in a pool, and his shue in the mud. Tiien away went the wind in its lioliday glee ! And now it was tUr on the billowy sea ; And the lordly ships felt its staggering blow, And the little boats darted to and fro :— liHt, lo ! night came, and it sank to rest On tlie sea-bird's rnek in the gleaming west, Laughing to think, lu its tearful fun. How little of mischief it had done ! WILLIAM noWITT. THE FIRST ROBIN. TTTIIROTIGII the ohill of an early Ai)ril rain ^\ L I liwir the note of a sweet refrain— " A Has the r(i))in eonie .so .soon ? Heavy and dull are tlie skies withimt. And my heart is filled with a dreary doubt, But the song is a song of June. robin, robin, you shame my faith. Your cheery song to luy spirit saith : '' Believe, and away with lear : 1 am not afraid, though the eold winds blow, I am come at the call of God, and know That spring is surely here. " So I seek my mate, and I build my nest, And I sing my song with a keener zest, For the joy that is yet to be ; Already the fullncs.s of joy I share. When my nest shall .•swing in the .summer air On the bough of the maple-tree." Sing on, brave robin, your song shall be An inspiration of faith to me, I. too, will begin to sing. Tiioiigh my heart is chilled, and my pulse is low, And my hopes lie buried under the snow, I am sure of a coming spring. MARl\ CPHAM DRAKE. THE RHODORA. ' -Ir Kiukhii.i wm once n.nkoil if ho know tho origin of thia hower ■ II ■ .'iiiuuiiig was his replj.] r'X May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes, T f mml the fresh rhodora in the woods Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook, To jdease iho desert and the sluggish brook ; The purple jietr.ls fallen in the pool Made the black waters with their beauty say ; Here might the red-bird com.' his plumes to cool, Ami court tiie ilower that cheapens his array. Rhoil.ira : if the sages a.-ik thee why This charm is wasted on the uiaish and sKy, Dear, tell them tliat if eyes were made for secin(f, Then beauty is its own lixcu.-c for being. Why thou wert there, () rival of the rose, I never thought to ask ; 1 never knew. Hut in my simple ignorance suiijiose The self-same Power that brought me thero brought you. RALPH WALDO EMEBSOMt THE VIOLET. FAINT, delicious, si)ring-time violet ! Thine od<>r, like a key, Turns noiselos.sb' in memory's wards to let A thought of sorrow free. The breath of distant fields upon my brow l>lows through that open door. The sound of wind-borne bells, more sweet and W And sadder than of yore. It comes afar from that beloved place. And that beloved hour. When life hung ripening in love's golden grace, Ijike grapes above a bower. \ spring goes singing througli its reedy gra.ss, The lark sings o'er my head, Drowneil in the sky— pass, ye visions, pass! I would that I were dead ! Why hast thou opened that forbidden door, From which I ever flee ? vanished door ! love, that art no more ! Let my vexed »\nnt be I violet ! thy odor, through my brain Hath searcheil, and stung to grief This siiiuiy day. as if a curse did stain Thy velvet leaf WILLIAM WETMOR* STORT. IF DAWN. IIROW up the window ! Tis a morn for life In its most subtle luxury. The air Is like a breathing from a rarer world ; And the south wind is like a gentle frieod, Parting tlie hair so softly on my brow. It has come over gardens, and tile flowers That kis.«cil it are betrayed ; for as it parts Witii its invisible fingers, my loose hair, I know it has been triflins; with the rose. And stooping to the violet. Tiiere is j*inglng As if to breathi" were music, and the grass Seiids up its modest odor with the dew, lii'Ke ihe .:m.;ll tribute of humility. M BEAUTIFUL GEMS. ;r 1 f I had awoke from an unpleasant iln'aui, And li>;lit was welcome to rac, 1 looked out To feel tlie common air, and when the breath Of the delicious morning met my brow, Cooling its fever, and the jileasant sun Shone on familiar otijirts, it was like The feelinfj of the captive who comes forth From darkness to the cheerful light id' day. Oh, could we wake from sorrow ! AVere it all A troubled dream like this, to cast aside Like an untimely garment with the morn ! Could the long fever of the heart be cooled By a sweet breath from nature, or the gloom Of a bereaved att'ection pass away With looking on the lively tint of flowers, How ligfitly were the spirit reconciled To make this beautiful, bright world its home I NATiiANiKi. rAi;i;i;i: wii.i.is. B IN WINTER TWILIGHT. ITTEI! and Weak is the closing day ; The wind goes wailing, the sky is gray, j And Jhere's never a bird on bough or spray — j Alas, how dreary ! But summer will surely come again. The earth needs snow and cold mid rain, Just as our hearts need grici' and jiain. And so be cheery I JAMES BUCKUAM. RAIN ON THE ROOF, B l'\ir is Then my little seraph sister, With her wings and waving hair, And her bright-eyed cherub brother, A .serene, angelic i^air ! Glide around my wakeful pillow With their iiraise or mild rejjroof, As I listen to the murmur Of the soft rain on the roof And iinother comes to thrill mo With her eyes' delicious blue, And forget I. gazing on her, 'I'hat her heart was all untrue; I rcnicnibcr but to love her Willi a rapture kin to pain ; And my hearts (|uick pulses vibrate To tile patter of the rain. (oATics kinsi;t. MORNING PLEASURES. ATiSKLV luxurious, will not man awake, .\iid, springing from the bed of sloth, enjoy TIk' ciHil. the fragiant and the silent hour, 'I'll ninlitalion du(.' and sacred sniiir? *7*^T*IIEN the huruid shadows hover V A y ^^y^r all the starry spheres, V[ jC And the melancholy darkne.«s (rently weeps in rainy tears, What a joy to press the iiillow Of a cottage chamber bed. And to lisum to the patter Of the .sot't rain overhead ! Every tinkle on the shingles lias an echo in the heart ; And a thousand dreamy fancies Iritii busy being start ; And a thousand recollectinns Weave their bright hues into woof As I listen to the patter Of the rain upon the roof Now in fancy comes my mother, As she u.sed to, years agmie. To survey her darling dreamers, Ere she left them till the dawn ; Oh ! I see her bendinL' o'er nic\ As I list to this rel'rain Which is jilayed upon the shingles By the patter of the nilN. there aught in slceji can charm the wise? To lie in dead olilivion. losing half The fleeting moments of too short a life ; Total extinctioTi of the enlightened sf SCENES IN NATURE. 51 III THE BLACK CANON. HE midday Hiiri in tiuN dot'i) gorge Hesignu his old-tiuio splendor, HIm {'aiiicc walls of dri'iimy gold The ro.x(!-huc.s wiirin and tender. Till' elcf't is (lark below Where roamiim flows the sombre river, The wild winds siph and blossoms shiver, And violet mists ascendinit,' Obseure the orient glow. I rusliinir river emerald-hmid, How mad tlioii art and f'carle.ss, No frowninjf gates, thoujrh frranitc-barred, Can eiirb thy waters fearless I Tiie sil(!nt gods of stone Revoke their ancient laws of might. When through the gorge with wing-swift flight Thy wind-tossed waves are speeding, Eaeh moment wilder grown. The faint stars shine in broad midday Through twilight mists, gol I-rifted, Where oi>al streams make dizzy leaps O'er jasjier walls blue rii'ted. Below no naiads dream ^cath dim areades ; througli sunless deeps The nomad river lonely leaps, Where castled crags rise skyward Like watch-towers o'er the stream. On massive cliff-walls Nature's hand Has turned time's sun-worn jiages; In faces carved and figures hewn We trace the work of ages. The gold-tipped sjiires sublime. That pierce the sky like shafts of light. But mark the measureless heavenwardheight Of Nature's own cathedral. Whose stern high priest is Time. In this grand temple eons old Her organ notes are pealing, In gold-flecked arch and wave-worn aisles The flower-nuns are kneeling ; Ilcr altars echo prayer, And when at dusk the cold moon shines O ! awful are tlie far white shrines. From earth to (Jod iinpreaching Through sjiirit-flooded air. THe SUN UPON THE WEIRDLAW HILL. JJI HHsunup.wi the Wcirdlaw Hill. In Ettrick's vale, is sinkiiiL' sweet ; riie westland wind is husht and still,' The lake lies sleeping at my feet, let not the landscape to mine eye Bears those brijrht hues that once it bore : Ihough eveniiiir. with her ri, lies; .Ive Flames o'er the hills of Ettri-k's'shore. With listless look along the plain, I .see Tweed's silver current glide, And coldly mark the holy fane Of .'Melrose rise in ruined jiride. The (|uiet lake, the balmy air, The hill, the stream, the towor, the tree — Are they ..till such as once they were'/ Or is the dreary change in me':' Alas, the wariied and !,ruken board, How can it bear the iiainter's dye ! The harp of .strained and tunele.'-s cliord, How to the min.strd's skill reply ! To aching eyes each land^'upi' hjwers. To feverish jiulse ea. h gale blows chill ; And Araby's or Kden's bowers Were barren as this moorland hill. sir. WAI.TKK SCOTT. BIRDS IN SUMMER. ; OW pleasant the life of a bird must be, Flitting about in each leal'y tree ; In the leaty trees mi broad and tall. M" v •^'''^^' " ^''''■'^^" '""' ''^'^"'"I'l'' palaee-hall, \\ ith Its airy chambers, light and boon. That open to sun and stars and moon, Tliat open unto the bright blue sky. And the frolicsome winds as they "wander by. Tliey have left their nest in tlie forest bough; Those homes (d' delight they need not now ; And the young and the old, they wander out. And traverse the preen world rouml about ; And hark ! at the top oi this leal'v hall, How one to the other they loviuL'iy call': " <'omo uj), come up," tiny .seem to .sav, ■■ Where the n.pmo.st twigs in the breezes sway."' '•Come up. come up, for the world is fair, W here the me.rry leaves dance in the summer air " Ami the birds below give back the cry : " We come, we come, to the branches high I " flow pleasant the life of a bird must be. Flitting ii'Mint in a leafy trei' ; And ixw-.iy tl, rough the air what joy to go, .Vnd look on the bright green earth below. How iileasant tb. :' le of a bird must be, .•'kimming about on the breezy .-ea. Cresting the billows like .silvery i'oam. And then wheeling away to it.s eliff-built homo ! *\ hat joy it must fie, to .sail, upborne By a strong, free wing, through iht; rosv morn, To meet the young sun face to face. And i>ierce like a shaft the Iwundlcss space ! How pleasant the life of a bird must tie. Wherever it listetli there to flee ; To g(i. when a jnyl'u! finey eal!<,' I*a.->hing adowii 'mid the walerfalls. BEAUTIFUL GEMS, l h 'li i Then whcoliriK nbout with itH iiiutu lit pluy, Alx)Vi! iiiitl below, luid iiiiiniij^ thi' i«|iruy, Hither urni thither, witli nuruuuiH uh wild As tlie laughing mirth of a rusy child I What n joy it niunt be. like u living hrrczc, To flutter about 'ujoiig the flowering tree- Lightly to unar, aii'l to see beneatii The wastes ot' the bloMsoniing iiurple lieath, And the yellow furze, like fields of gold, That gladdens sonio fairy region old ! On niouiituin tops, on the billowy sea. On the leaty stems of tin- forest tree. How i)leusant the life of a bird must be. MAiiY uowirr. TO A NIGHTINGALE. SWEET bird' •'' ' >;. r'st .,way the earthly Of wi'n.i ! K |,io. n, uiig Void of cure. Well ) lease' vvith dciights which jiresent are, Fair season,, binidiiig sprays, sweet -smelling flowers ; To rockt-, to -jirings, to rills, I'roni li liy bowers Thou thy Creator's jioodness do>t dechire. And what dear gifts on thee be did not spare, A stain to Iminan sense in sin that lowers. What soul eaii !■« so siek, which by thy '•uii: Attired in sweetness, sweetly is no. .^livtju Quite to forget earth » turmoils, spites, and wrongs, .\nd lift a reverent eye and thought to heaven? Fweet, artless .songster, tlmu my mind dost rui.se To airs of sjilieres, and, \es. to luvels' lay.s. WILLIAM DUUM.MONU. Sweet bird ! ihy bower is ever grcw Thy sky is ever clear ; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No whiter in thy year I Oh could I fly, I'd fly with thee I We'd make, with Joylul wing, Our annual vi.-it o'er the globe, Companions of the spruig. JOHN LOOAN. TO PRIMROSES FILLED WITH DEW. MORNINQ w i ODE TO THE CUCKOO. AIL, beauteous stranger of the irrove ! Thou messenger of 8]>ring ! Now Heaven repair.- thy rural seat, And woods thy welcome sing. What time the daisy decks the preen. Thy certain voice we ]ie;ir ; Hast thou a star to guide by path, Or mark the rolling year 'f Lilightfid visitant : with thee I bail the time of flowers. And hear the -ound id' music sweet From birds among the bowers. The »ehool-boy wandering through the woods, To pull the i)rimrnse gay. Starts, the luw voice of the sprini: to hear, And iihitates tliy lay. What tim the pea puts on the bloom, Thou fliest thy vocal vale, ks annual gifst in other lands, Another ,.;::';; to hail HV do ye weep, sweet babes? Can tears Speak grief in you Who were but born Just as tint uioilcst morn Teemed her refreshing liew? ! .Ma- ! ye have not known tbnt shower That mars a flower ; Nor felt the unkind Breath of a bla.-iting wind; Nor are ye worn with years. Or warped as we Who think it strange to see Sueli pretty flowers, like to orphans young Speaking by tears before you have a tongue. Speak, whimpering younglings, and make knowu The reason why Ye droop and weep ; Is it for want of .sleep. Or childish hdlnby ? Or that ye have not seen as yet The violet? Or brought a kiss From that sweetheart to this? No, no ; this .soriow shown I{v your tears shed, Would have this lecture read : " That things of greatest, .so of meanest worth. Conceived with grief are, and with tears br(iK;:ht forth." ROnrUT IIBKlllCK. A DROP OF DEW. EE. bow the orient dew, led from the '•■-i.m of the mom ^ Into the blowing rv-cs. Yet carele.^s ot its ijiaiision new, For the clear rcL'ion wIumc 'twas born. Round ill itself encloses. And in its little globe's extent Finnies. as it eini. it,s native element How it the purple flower does slight. Scarce toiichiiiL' where it lies; ]>ut gazing bu' ' upon the ski''N, Shines with a i. iirnful light. lj[kf ii> own tear. Because so long divided from the sphere ; SCENES IN N'ATURE. 63 iiake knowti BI'RT HBKUICK. Restless it rollg, and unsi-iiiri', TrenjblinK, l"! blifw with stooping kiss Thu petuls of thu wmm. The wfttclido^'H .sleep, sorcno und deep, Hrciiks on thv iiiiiriiiiif,''s breiikiiiu', And pillowed liead tliat iiioi^ked the dead From dreaiu to work i.s waking. The 8ons of toil in cartirs turmoil Come forth ere day to lain.!- ; And la/.y wealth out.MJiM'ps iiis health, To eomi cn.sate lii-( iifiv'lihor. Tho world of sound .sjirinjj.s up around, In iiiurniurs wa.xiiii; evi-r ; And wearied men are armed again, To face the long endeavor. VW' know not, we. what thi.s may bo, The niy^'<"ry of ag(j<, Which <' by day write.s live.s away On uiiivmumbered pages. But ealm at lea.st, they watch tho east, For victory or disaster, Who firmly hold the best tho old. And faith alone the master. . UE.KMAN UEBIVALG. THE FOLDED LEAF. O ! in the middle of the wood. The iblded le:if i.s wooed from out the bud With wind.s ujion the branch, and then^ Grows green and broad, and tabes no earc, Snn-stee])ed at nocm, and in the moon Nightly dew-fed and turnini? yellow Falls, and floats adown the air. Jjo ! .sweetened with the suniriier lif-'ht, The I'ull-Juieed apple, waxing over-mcUoW, Drops in a silent autumn night. AH its allotted len'.'th of days, The flower ripens in its place. Ripens and fades, and falls, anil bath no toil, Fast-rooted in the fruitful soil. "^ AI-FIIED TENNYSON. LOCH KATRINE. \ I f HK summer dawn's reilcctcd hue ■i) I © To puri>le ehaiujed lioeh Katrini' blue ; Mildly and sol't the western ]nw7A', Just kissed tho lake, just stirred the trees. And the pleased lake, likr maiden coy. Trembled, but dimpled not for joy ; The mountain-shadows on her breast Were neither broken nor at rest ; In bright uncertainty they lie, Like future joys to fancy's eye. U Tho water-lily to tho light Her chalice reared of silver bright ; The doe awoke, and to the lawn. Begemmed with dewdrops, IimI her f iwn ; The gray mist loft tho mountain side, The torrent showed its glistening pride ; Invisibht in tleckeil sky. The lark ^ont down hop revelry; Tho bla, Lbird an', and md gold: >wcold." Soon as the loaves hoard the wind's loud call, Down they oamo tbttioriiig. oiio and all ; Over the brown tiolds they danced and flew, Singing the ift little songs they knew : " Cricket, good-by ; we've boon i'riends so hmi? I Little brook, sing us your farewell song — Say you are sorry to see us go : Ah ! you will miss us, right well we know. " Dear little lamos, in your fleecy fold, Mother will keep you from harm and cold : Fondly we've watched yi. . in vale ami glade ; Say, will you dream of . nr loving shade?" Dancing and whirling, the little loaves went, Winter had called them and they wore content, Soiin fast a.sloop in their earthly beds. The snow laid a coverlet over their heads. GEOKOK tOOJ'KB. m STORM AT NIGHT. HE sky is changed ! — and such a change ! O r.) I to i>i«ht, ' X And storm, and darkness, ye arc wondrous strong. Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman ! Fur along, From peak to i)oak, the rattling craus among, liOaits the live thunder ! \ot from mw lone clotid. Hut every mountain now hath fmnid a t"»i.'ue. And .Jura an.swers, through her misty shroud Back to the joyous Alps, who call to lior aloud ; And this is in the night : — Most glorious night Thou wort not sent for slumijcr ! lot mo in; A sharer in thy fieri;e and far delight — A portion of the tempest and of thee ! SCENES IN NATUKK. 05 IfiiH- ilu (it l.ikc nhinci, a |)hoii|)hr)rin rea, Ami tlif OIK nun ntiiu'.'* (liiiiciriir tn tin' fartli ! And now Hjfiiiri 'tis lilmk— iimi mdw, the nUv (tr (III' liiiiil IiIIIh ftlmki'.^ with h^ nioiiiilaiii-iiiirfli, A.-< il'thoy aid rijuifo o'it a vuuiik I'lirtlninukuM birth. Now, where tho dwifl Kh.mo cicavcH hin way bc- twouti H'Mglils which «|>poiir as luvcw wlio havu jnirtoil 111 iiati'. wiiiiHc uiiiiiiiir (lc|>ilii Nil iiitiTMiic, That they I'aii iinrt no ijii/ii., thoiiu'h broken- heart fil ; ThoiiL'h ill their w.ul.i, wliieli thus uaeh other thwarted, 7i<)Ve was the very root of the t'onj rage \\hich liliv'hled their litu's bloom, mid then de- l)arted : — Itself ex|iireil, hut lenviiijt them uii age or years all wiiitt-rs— war within theiuselvos to wage. Now, where the qiilek Hlioiie thus hath cloft hiH way, The mightiest of the Mtoriiis hath ta'en bin stand : For here, not one, hut many, make their play. And fliii>.' their thiiiidir holts iVmii haiidto liaiid, l''la.shin« and east around ; of all the hand. The hriv'htef^t throuirh these parled hills hath forked Ills liKhlninj.'s— as if ho did understand. That in .sueh ^aps as de.xolatioii worked. There the liot shaft should blast whatever therein lurked. Sky. mountains, river, winds, lake, lightninits ! ye ! With ni>.'Iit, and clouds, and thunder, and a .soul. To make tlie.se felt anil feelinjj, well may l)e Things that have made me watchful ; the far roll Of your departing voices is the knoll Of what in mc is i-leeplcss— if I rest. But where of ye, oli tempest ! is the goal? Are ye like tho,-e wiihin the hiiniaii breast 'f ')k do ye find, at length, like eagles, some high nest? J.IJKI> DYllON. B TO DAFFODILS. •Mil daflodils. we weep to .see You haste away so .nion ; As yet till' early rising .sun Has not attained his noon ; Stay, stay. Until the ha.sting day Has run But to the even-song ; And, having iira.ved together, we Will go with you alon-. We have short time to stay as you, W'^e have as short a spring ; As