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LITTLE JIM.

A little worn-out creature-
His once bright eyes grown dim;
It was a collier's only child-
They called him Little Jim.

And, oh! to see the briny tears
Fast hurrying down her cheek,
As she offer'd up a prayer in thought-
She was afraid to speak,

Lest she might waken one she loved
Far better than her life;

For there was all a mother's love
In that poor collier's wife.

With hands uplifted, see, she kneels
Beside the sufferer's bed;

And prays that He will spare her boy,
And take herself instead.

She gets her answer from the child;
Soft fall these words from him-
66 Mother, the angels do so smile,
And beckon little Jim!

"I have no pain, dear mother, now,
But, oh! I am so dry;

Just moisten poor Jim's lips again,
And, mother, don't you cry.”

With gentle, trembling haste, she held

The teacup to his lips;

He smiled, to thank her, as he took

Three tiny little sips.

"Tell father, when he comes from work,

I said good-night to him;

And mother, now I'll go to sleep."
Alas! poor little Jim !

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With hearts bowed down with sadness,

They humbly ask of Him,

In heaven, once more, to meet again
Their own poor little Jim.

E. Farmer.

TRUST IN GOD AND DO THE RIGHT.

COURAGE, brother! do not stumble
Though thy path is dark as night;
There's a star to guide the humble-
Trust in God and do the right.

Let the road be long and dreary,
And its ending out of sight;
Foot it bravely-strong or weary-
Trust in God and do the right.

THE DREAM OF THE REVELLER.

Perish "policy" and cunning,

Perish all that fears the light;
Whether losing, whether winning,
Trust in God and do the right.

Trust no party, church, or faction
Trust no "leader" in the fight;
But in every word and action
Trust in God and do the right.

Trust no forms of guilty passion-
Fiends can look like angels bright;
Trust no custom, school, or fashion-
Trust in God and do the right.

Some will hate thee, some will love thee,
Some will flatter, some will slight;
Cease from man and look above thee-
Trust in God and do the right.

Firmest rule, and safest guiding,
Inward peace and inward light;
Star upon our path abiding—
Trust in God and do the right.

McLeod.

THE DREAM OF THE REVELLER.

(By permission of the Author.)

AROUND the board the guests were met,
The lights above them beaming,

And in their cups, replenish'd oft,

The ruddy wine was streaming;

Their cheeks were flush'd, their eyes were bright,
Their hearts with pleasure bounded,

The song was sung, the toast was given,
And loud the revel sounded.

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THE DREAM OF THE REVELLER.

I drained a goblet with the rest,
And cried, "Away with sorrow!
Let us be happy for to-day-

What care we for to-morrow!"
But as I spoke my sight grew dim,
And slumber deep came o'er me,
And 'mid the whirl of mingling tongues,
This vision passed before me.

Methought I saw a demon rise :
He held a mighty bicker,

Whose burnished sides ran brimming o'er
With floods of burning liquor.
Around him pressed a clamorous crowd,
To taste this liquor greedy,
But chiefly came the poor and sad,
The suffering and the needy.

All those oppressed by care or debt,
The dissolute, the lazy,

Blear-eyed old men and reckless youths,
And palsied women, crazy;

"Give, give!" they cried, "give, give us drink,
To drown all thought of sorrow;

If we are happy for to-day,

What care we for to-morrow!"

The first drop warmed their shivering skins,
And drove away their sadness

The second lit their sunken eyes,

And fill'd their souls with gladness;

The third drop made them shout and roar,

And play each furious antic;

The fourth drop boiled their very blood,

And the fifth drop drove them frantic.

"Drink!" said the demon, "drink your fill !
Drink of these waters mellow !

They'll make your eyeballs sear and dull,
They'll make your white skins yellow;
They'll fill your homes with care and grief,
And clothe your backs with tatters;
They'll fill your hearts with evil thoughts:
But never mind-what matters ?

THE DREAM OF THE REVELLER.

"Though virtue sink, and reason fail,
And social ties dissever,

I'll be your friend in hour of need,
And find you homes for ever;
For I have built three mansions high,
Three strong and goodly houses,
To lodge at last each jolly soul,
Who all his life carouses.

"The first it is a spacious house,
To all but sots appalling,
Where, by the parish bounty fed,
Vile, in the sunshine crawling,
The worn-out drunkard ends his days,
And eats the dole of others,
A plague and burthen to himself,
An eyesore to his brothers.

"The second is a lazar-house,
Rank, fetid, and unholy;
Where, smitten by diseases foul,
And hopeless melancholy,
The victims of potations deep

Pine on their couch of sadness,
Some calling death to end their pain,
And some imploring madness.

"The third and last is black and high,
The abode of guilt and anguish,
And full of dungeons deep and fast,
Where death-doomed felons languish.
So drain the cup, and drain again!
One of my goodly houses

Shall lodge at last each jolly soul
Who to the dregs carouses!"

But well he knew-that demon old-
How vain was all his preaching:
The ragged crew that round him flocked
Were heedless of his teaching;
Even as they heard his fearful words,
They cried, with shouts of laughter,

"Out on the fool who mars to-day
With thoughts of an hereafter !

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