But now it has fallen from me; And only the sorrow of others Yet whenever I cross the river On its bridge with wooden piers, Like the odour of brine from the ocean Comes the thought of other years. And I think how many thousands Each bearing his burden of sorrow, I see the long procession Still passing to and fro, The young heart hot and restless, And for ever and for ever, As long as the river flows The moon and its broken reflection As the symbol of love in heaven, And its wavering image here. LONGFELLOW. Song sinks into silence, The windows are darkened, The hearth-stone is cold. Darker and darker The black shadows fall; Sleep and oblivion Reign over all. LONGFELLOW. 66 TRUST AND TRY. ANNOT," Edward, did you say? Never let that idle word From your lips again be heard. Take your book from off the shelf, O'er your lesson do not sigh: "Cannot," Edward? Say not so; Trust and try-trust and try. "Cannot," Edward? Scorn the thought; You can do whate'er you ought: Give as You'd Take. 335 Ever duty's call obey, Strive to walk in wisdom's way; Let the sluggard, if he will, Trust and try-trust and try. S. W. PARTRIDGE. GIVE AS YOU'D TAKE. m Y bairnies dear, when you go out Take heed of everything you do, Of every word you say; From tricky, wee, mischievous loons And aye to all such usage give As you would like to take. To twist the mouth and call ill names Is surely very bad; Then all such doings still avoid, They'd make your mother sad. To shield the weakly from the strong, Be neither slow nor slack, And aye to all such usage give, A kindly word, a soothing look, We're all the children of his care; Be sure such usage still to give As you would like to take. ALEXANDER Rodger. TIRED OF PLAY. IRED of play! tired of play! What hast thou done this livelong day? The bird is hushed, and so is the bee, The sun is creeping up steeple and tree; The doves have flown to the sheltering eaves, And the nests are dark with the drooping leaves; Twilight gathers, and day is done; How hast thou spent it, precious one? Playing ?-But what hast thou done beside, What promise of morn is left unbroken? There will come an eve to a longer day, |