Two hoofs upon the sanded floor, And they are breathing side by side, "Now wake, now wake, thou butcher man! Untwisted every winding coil; The shuddering wretch took hold, So tapering and so cold. "Thou com'st with me, thou butcher man!" And open, open, swung the door, Fast fled the darkness of the night, They called full loud, they knocked full long, Straight, straight towards that oaken beam, A ghastly shape was swinging there- O. W. Holmes. ADDRESS TO A MUMMY IN BELZONI'S AND thou has walked about (how strange a story!) Speak! for thou long enough hast acted dumby; Thou hast a tongue, come, let us hear its tune; Thou'rt standing on thy legs above ground, mummy! Revisiting the glimpses of the moon. Not like thin ghosts or disembodied creatures, But with thy bones and flesh, and limbs and features. Tell us for doubtless thou canst recollect To whom we should assign the Sphinx's fame} Was Cheops or Cephrenes architect Of either pyramid that bears his name? Had Thebes a hundred gates, as sung by Homer? In Memnon's statue, which at sunrise played? Hath hob-a-nobbed with Pharaoh, glass to glass; Or dropped a halfpenny in Homer's hat, Or doffed thine own to let Queen Dido pass, I need not ask thee if that hand, when armed, Long after thy primeval race was run. Thou couldst develop, if that withered tongue Might tell us what those sightless orbs have seen, How the world looked when it was fresh and young, Still silent, incommunicative elf! Art sworn to secrecy? Then keep thy vows; But pr'ythee tell us something of thyself, Reveal the secrets of thy prison-house; Since in the world of spirits thou hast slumbered, We have, above ground, seen some strange mutations; The Roman empire has begun and ended, New worlds have risen-we have lost old nations, Didst thou not hear the pother o'er thy head, And shook the pyramids with fear and wonder, If the tomb's secrets may not be confessed, A heart has throbbed beneath that leathern breast, Statue of flesh-immortal of the dead! And standest undecayed within our presence, Thou wilt hear nothing till the judgment morning, When the great trump shall thrill thee with its warning. If its undying guest be lost for ever? In living virtue, that, when both must sever, THE COLD WATER MAN. It was an honest fisherman, L A grave and quiet man was he, His neighbours thought it odd. For science and for books, he said, No school to him was worth a fig, He ne'er aspired to rank or wealth, For, though much famed for fish was he, Let others bend their necks at sight He ne'er had learned the art to "bob" A cunning fisherman was he, All day this fisherman would sit With all the seeming innocence To charm the fish he never spoke- And many a gudgeon of the pond, Would own, with grief, this angler had Alas! one day this fisherman 'Twas all in vain, with might and main The jury gave their verdict that Though one stood out upon a whim, Was, clearly, gin-and-water! The moral of this mournful tale That drinking habits bring a man Too often to his bier; And he who scorns to "take the pledge," And keep the promise fast, May be, in spite of fate, a stiff Cold water man at last! J. G. Saxe. THE FEARLESS DE COURCY. THE fame of the fearless De Courcy Is boundless as the air: With his own right hand he won the land Of Ulster, green and fair! But he lieth low in a dungeon now, Powerless, in proud despair; For false King John hath cast him in, And closely chained him there. The false king sate on his throne of state, 'Mid knights and nobles frce: "Who is there," he cried, "who will cross the tide, And do battle in France for me? |