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my son. She replied that she was ready to obey me in everything, reputation. Heaven will reward thy virtue, and I thank thee for to be my servant even, if I desired it; but that before uniting her the lesson thou hast given me." to my son she begged that I would grant her a delay of a year, Then the Emperor returned to Magdebourg, to expiate the sin of hoping that during that time she might perhaps learn what had be- pride he had committed. come of her father and her betrothed prince.

" But this year also passed away witnout any tidings coming from Denmark or England. The princess then told me that she was

“ BEHOLD THE FOWLS OF THE ready to accept the proposal I nad made to her. I then betook

AIR." myself to the archbishop of Cologne, and informed him of all that

WOULD you, free and happy, go had happened in this affair. He approved of the course I had taken

Through a world of sorrow? respecting the princess ; and in order to put my son on a rank equal

You must learn of little birds, with that of a woman of such high birth, he made him a knight.

Their wisdom you must borrow. A grand banquet was prepared to celebrate the marriage. While

See them hop, and fly, and sing, we were seated at table, I observed a poor man, standing apart, who

Careless, unrepining; from time to time looked timidly at the princess, wiping the tears

Sleeping 'mid the branches green that flowed down his cheeks. I approached him, and inquired who

Till the sun is shining. he was. He replied that he was heir to the throne of England, and

Every one enjoys the life that his name was William ; and that in returning from Denmark,

God's goodness has imparted, where he had been to visit the princess, his intended bride, he had

Each contented in her nest, been driven by a storm on a foreign shore ; and that he had sought

Blithe and happy-hearted. his princess from country to country, and that he could not reconcile

In their joys they do not heap himself to finding her at the moment she was about to become the

Stores for future need, bride of another,

Contented if they find enough " Take courage,' I replied ; 'you do not know what happiness

Their little ones to feed. heaven may yet have in store for you.'

If 'tis fair, they never fear "I then took him into a chamber and gave him some rich clothes,

To-morrow's cloudy sky; which he put on : then I went to the archbishop and informed him

Storms may come, but rocks and trees of this new discovery, and he told me that my son's marriage with

A shelter will supply. the princess could not take place. This was a cruel disappointment

Every day, for life and food to my son : but we represented to him that it was the duty of every

To God their praises bringing one to submit to the decrees of Providence, and he became resigned.

Singing to the grive they go, The same day the prince and princess were married ; then I em

And breathe their last in singing. barked with them in my ship to convey them to England.

"When we reached the port of London, I left the prince on board the ship, and went on shore alone, attended by a few of my sạilors.

THE LIGHT OF HOME. A great number of tents were erected on the banks of the river, and the concourse of strangers in the city was so great that I had much difficulty in making my way. I learned that the king was A TRAVELLER was hastening from a distant land to his native dead, and that the election of his successor was about to take place : country. His heart was filled with hope and joy, for be had not the election being entrusted to twenty-four knights and three pre- seen his parents and brothers for many years; therefore he hurried lates. I mounted a horse, and as I was richly attired, I was taken along. But while he was on the mountains night overtook him, for a person of consequence, so the crowd made way for me, and I and it was so dark that he could hardly see the staff in his hand. soon found myself in the middle of the assembly of electors. One When he descended into the valley he lost his way, and wandered a of them asked my name and whence I had come.

long time to the right and to the left; then he was very sad, and sighed, ** I am only a merchant,' I replied ; 'my name is Gerhard of “Oh, would that a human being might meet me, and set me on the Cologne.'

right way ! how grateful I should be!" Thus he said, and stopped, "At these words all the knights rose up, declaring that I had been waiting for a guide. sent into their country by Providence, and that I should be their As the way-worn pilgrim was standing there, full of doubts and king. In spite of all the resistance and protestations I could make, I anxiety, behold a twinkling light gleamed from afar through the was carried to the throne, seated upon it, and the crown placed upon darkness, and its glimmer seemed lovely to him in the dark night. my head.

“Welcome!” he exclaimed, “th ou messenger of peace; thou givest “When calm was restored, I succeeded at length in making them me the assurance that a human being is nigh. Thy faint gleam understand that I could not be their king. I told them that the son through the darkness of night is sweet to me as the sunrise." of their legitimate king was living and close at hand. This news He hastened to reach the distant light, fancying that he saw the excited the utmost enthusiasm and extravagant joy among the whole man who was carrying it. But lo! it was a will-o'-the-wisp rising assembly and the people. The prince, whom I had previously from a fen, and hovering over the stagnant pool ; thus the man notified, came on shore, and the knights, with their banners, and drew nigh to the verge of destruction. the crowd, hastened to place themselves in order, and marched Suddenly a voice behind him exclaimed, “Stop, or thou art a before him.

dead man!" He stopped and looked around ; it was a fisherman, “He was unanimously proclaimed king by all the inhabitants of the who called to him from his boat. country; deputations being sent from Scotland, Ireland, and Wales. “Why,” asked he, "shall I not follow the kindly guiding light ? Then the king of Denmark, who had been advised of these happy I have lost my way events, arrived with a numerous retinue. The ascending to the “ The guiding light !” said the fisherman; “callest thou thus the throne, and the marriage of William were celebrated by pompous deluding glimmer which draws the wanderer into danger and tournaments, festivals, and banquets. Never had England been so destruction ? Evil subterranean powers create from the noisome merry since the days of King Arthur.

bogs the nightly vapour which imitates the glimmer of the friendly “I remained there as long as these festivities lasted. When I an- light. Behold how restlessly it flutters about, the evil offspring of nounced my intention of returning to my native country, the king night and darkness." entreated me to remain with him ; offering me a seat in his council While he thus spoke the deceptive light vanished. After it had and the county of Kent, then the city of London ; I declined his expired, the weary traveller thanked the fisherman heartily for preoffer. He then begged that I would at least allow him to give me serving him ; and the fisherman answered and said, “Should one treble the value of what it had cost me to deliver him, the princess, man leave another in error, and not help him into the right way? We and the knights and ladies from their captivity, and I refused this have both reason to thank God : I, that he made me the instrument also. At the moment of parting, the princess said to me,_ My to do good; thou, that I was ordained to be at this hour in my dear father, at least permit me to send a token of remembrance to boat on the water." your wife.'

Then the good-natured fisherman left his boat, accompanied the "Then she sent me so much gold, silver, and precious stones, that, traveller for a while, and put him on the right way to reach his father's had I accepted them, I should have been the richest merchant in all house. Now he walked on cheerily, and soon the light of home Germany. I refused all, except a ring and a belt. I returned to gleamed through the trees with its quiet, modest radiance, appearing Cologne, where the people began to call me. Good Gerhard,' but I to him doubly welcome after the troubles and dangers he had am unworthy of such a title, for I am only a poor sinful man.” undergone. He knocked; the door was opened, and his father and

When the Emperor had heard this story, he said, “. Rightly mother, brothers, and sisters come to meet him, and hung on his have they surnamed thee Good,' for thou art even better than thy neck and kissed him, weeping for joy.


the room began singing the following pretty song, which had been

written by the lead pencil ;
Come, lovely May, and make
Our trees and gardens green;

Waft, gentle breeze, our kind farewell

To the tiny house where the bridefolks dwell,
Beside the silver stream

With their skin of kid leather fitting so well ;
Let the violets be seen.

They are straight and upright as a tailor's ell.
Oh, how I long to see

Hurrah, hurrah for beau and belle !
The violets again,

Let echo repeat our kind farewell.
And walk, sweet May, with thee
Upon the grassy plain!

And now presents were brought to them; all eatables, however,

they declined accepting : love was enough for them to live upon. True, winter has its pastimes

"Shall we go into the country, or make a tour in some foreign And pleasures to bestow;

land P" asked the bridegroom. So the Swallow, who had travelled There is hearty fun and frolic

a good deal, and the old Hen, who had hatched five broods of In sledging on the snow,

chickens, were consulted. And the Swallow spoke of those beautiful Then at eventide, at home,

warm countries, where bunches of grapes, large and heavy, hang There are games to close the day,

on the vines ; where the air is so balmy, and the mountains are Card-houses to be built,

tinged with various hues, such as are never seen bere. And blind-man's buff to play.

But then they have not our green cabbages !" said the Hen.

“ One summer I and all my chickens lived in the country ; there But oh, I grieve for Lotty!

was a gravel pit, in which we might ramble and scrape about ; See, here she sits for hours,

besides, we had access to a garden full of green cabbages. Oh, how As if, poor girl, she listened

green they were ! I cannot imagine anything more beautiful !" For the coming of the flowers.

"But one head of cabbage looks exactly like another," said the In vain I try my playthings

Swallow ; "and then we so often have wet weather here."
She will not stir a peg;

“ One gets accustomed to that," said the Hen.
She sits upon her stool

“But it is so cold-it freezes !” Like a hen upon an egg !

" That is good for the cabbages," said the Hen ; " besides which

it can be warm sometimes. Did we not, four years ago, have a sum. But when the birds are singing,

mer which lasted five weeks ? It was so hot that one could hardly And, on the grassy plain,

breathe. Then, too, we have none of the venomous animals which The boys and girls are springing,

they have in foreign countries ; and we are free from robbers. He She'll come to life again.

is a blockhead who does not think our country the most beautiful And then my little hobby

of all !-he does not deserve to live here !” and at these words tears (He's in the corner there)

rolled down the Hen's cheeks. “I, too, have travelled ; I have Shall canter in the garden,

been twelve miles in a coop. There is no pleasure at all in travelAnd snuff the pleasant air.


** Yes, the Hen is a sensible creature !" said the doll Betsy. “I When will the wind be softer ?

do not wish to travel over the mountains ; one is always going up When will the fields be green?

and down ! No, we will go to the gravel pit, and walk in the Come, lovely May, we children,

garden among the cabbages.
Will hail you for our queen!

And so it was settled.
O, come! and with thee bringing

A thousand violets blue;
The nightingale, loud-singing,

And the bird that says, " Cuck-oo!"

A MERCHANT having one day disposed of his stock of goods at a fair, found himself at night in possession of a good lot of gold and silver, which be

put into a bag, and prepared to hasten home to show it to his wife. So he THE DUSTMAN.

strapped his portmanteau with the gold in it upon his horse's back, and rode off. After a time he stopped at an inn to refresh himself and rest his horse. When he was about to set off again, the stable boy, who ba ited his horse,

said to him, "Sir, there is a nail gone from the left hind foot of your horse." “ It is incredible what a number of old people there are always Oh, never mind,” replied the merchant; “I am in a hurry, and can't stop wanting to have me with them," said the Dustman, "especially now. I dare say the shoe will hold till I get to my journey's end." those who have done anything wicked. Dear, good Dustman,' Some miles further on he stopped at another inn, to feed his horse, and they say to me, we cannot sleep a wink all night; we lie awake, here, also, the stable boy came and told him that a nail was missing from and see all our bad deeds sitting on the edge of the þed, like little one of the shoes, and asked if he should take the horse to a farrier. ugly goblins, and sprinkling scalding water over If you

“No, no!" replied the merchant;“it's of no consequence, it has lasted me would but come and drive them away, so that we could have a thus far and I dare say it will hold till I get to the end of my journey." little sleep, and then they sigh so deeply, we will be sure to pay, shoe came off, and as the road was a very rough one, full of sharp flints, bis

Saying this he rode off; but he had not proceeded very far before the you well, -good night, Dustman, the money is lying at the window.' horse soon became lame, and limped and stumbled till it fell down and But I do not come for money,” added Old Robin.

broke its leg. Then the merchant, who was afraid of robbers, had to take “ What are we to do to-night ?” asked Edward. "Well, I do his heavy portmanteau off his horse's back and carry it on his own not know whether you would like to go again to a wedding? The shoulders, and when he arrived home it was so late that his wife had gone one of which I am now speaking is quite of another kind from to bed. He knocked and knocked at the door for a long time but nobody yesterday's. Your sister's great doll, that looks like a man, and is answered, for his wife, being alone in the house, was frightened, thinking it called Henry, is going to marry the doll Betsy; moreover, it is a might be robbers. So she covered her head up with the counterpane, and birthday ; so they will doubtless receive a great many presents.”

paid no heed to the knocking.

The merchant, finding he could not get in at the door, tried to climb in " Oh, yes ! I knew that before,” said Edward : " whenever the at a window, but he missed his fcoting and fell, and broke his neck. Thus dolls want new clothes, my sister calls it either their birthday or all his misfortunes came from the loss of a horse-shoe nail. The king their wedding-day. They must certainly have been married a hearing of the circumstance, ordered his court poet to make a poem about hundred times already."

it, which, as it is not very long, may be given here. This is it; “Yes, but to-night they will be married for the hundred-and-first

For want of a nail the shoe was lost, time ; and when it has come to that number, they can never be

For want of a shoe the horse was lost, married again. So this time the wedding will be splendid I Just

For want of a horse the rider was lost, look !"

And all for want of a horse-shoo nail. And Edward looked upon the table, where stood the little doll's house; the windows were lighted up, and tin soldiers presented arms at the door. The bride and bridegroom were sitting on the floor,

We have two ears, but only one mouth; Nature would thereby teach us and leaning against the leg of the table; they seemed very thought- that we should hear much but speak little. It was said of a certain ful,-there was, perhaps, good reason for their being so. But the philosopher, who talked a great deal

, but never listened to others

, that Dustman bad, meanwhile, put on his grandmother's black gown, and Nature had in this instance reversed her order, and given him two tongues married them. When the ceremony was over, all the furniture in and but one ear.



" TURN, gentle Hermit of the dale,

And guide my lonely way,
To where yon taper cheers the vale

With hospitable ray.
" For here, forlorn and lost, I tread,

With fainting steps and slow, Where wilds, immeasurably spread,

Seem lengthening as I go." “Forbear, my son,” the hermit cries,

** To tempt the dangerous gloom! For yonder phantom only flies

To lure thee to thy doom.
"Here to the houseless child of want

My door is open still;
And though my portion is but scant,

I give it with good will.
Then turn to-night, and freely share

Whate'er my cell bestows;
My rushy couch and frugal fare, -

My blessing and repose.
"No flocks, that range the valley free,

To slaughter I condemn :
Taught by that power who pities me,

I learn to pity them.
" But from the mountain's grassy side

A guiltless feast I bring ;
A scrip with herbs and fruits supplied,

And water from the spring.
* Then, pilgrim, turn—thy cares forego;

All earth-bora cares are wrong:
Man wants but little here below,

Nor wants that little long."
Soft as the dew from heaven descends,

His gentle accents fell;
The modest stranger lowly bends,

And follows to the cell.
Far in a wild erness obscure,

The lonely mansion lay;
A refuge to the neighb'ring poor,

And strangers led astray..
No stores beneath its humble thatch

Required a master's care :
The wicket, opening with a latch,

Received the harmless pair.
And now, when busy crowds retire

To take their evening rest,
The hermit trimmed his little fire,

And cheered his pensive guest ;
And spread his vegetable store,

And gaily pressed and smiled ; And, skillei in legendary lore,

The lingering hours beguiled.
Around, in sympathetic mirth,

Its tricks the kitten tries;
The cricket chirrups in the hearth,

The crackling fagot flies.
But nothing could a charm impart

To soothe the stranger's woe ;
For grief was heavy at his heart,

And tears began to flow.
His rising cares the hermit 'spied,

With answering care opprest:
“And whence, unhappy youth,” he cried,

“ The sorrows of thy breast ?
" From better habitations spurned,

Reluctant dost thou rove?
Or grieve for friendship unreturned,

Or unregarded love?
“Alas! the joys that fortune brings

Are trifling, and decay;
And those who prize the paltry things,

More trifling still than they.
* And what is friendship but a name,

A charın that lulls to sleep ;
A shade that follows wealth or fame,

And leaves the wretch to weep ?
" And love is still an emptier sound,

The modern fair one's jest ! On earth unseen, or only found

To warm the turtle's nest. "For shame, fond youth! thy sorrows hush,

And spum the sex,” he said; But while he spoke, a rising blush

His love-lori guest betrayed.

Surprised, he sees new beauties rise,

Swift mantling to the view;
Like colours o'er the morning skies,

As bright, -as transient too.
The bashful look, the rising breast,

Alternate spread alarms:-
The lovely stranger stands confest,

A maid in all her charms!
And, “ Ah! forgive a stranger rude,

A wretch forlorn (she cried);
Whose feet unhallowed thus intrude

Where Heaven and you reside. “But let a maid thy pity sbare,

Whom love has taught to stray ; Who seeks for rest, but finds despair

Companion of her way.
“My father lived beside the Tyne,

A wealthy Lord was he;
And all his wealth was marked as mine,

He had but only me.
“ To win me from his tender arms,

Unnumbered suitors came;
Who, praised me for imputed charms,

And felt or feigned a flame.
" Each hour a mercenary crowd

With richest proffers strove; Among the rest young Edwin bowed,

But never talked of love. “In humble, simplest habit clad,

No wealth or power had he; Wisdom and worth were all he had,

But these were all to me." “ The blossom opening to the day,

The dews of heaven refined, Could naught of purity display

To emulate his mind. “The dew, the blos-oms of the tree,

With charms inconstant shine; Their charms were his -but, woe to me!

Their constancy was mine. “ For still I tried each fickle art,

Importunate and vain; And while his passion touched my heart,

I triumphed in his pain. “ Till, quite dejected with my scorn,

He left me to my pride ; And sought a solitude forlorn,

In secret, where he died. “But mine the sorrow, mine the fault,

And well my life shall pay; I'll seek the solitude he sought,

And stretch me where he lay. “And there, forlorn, despairing, hid,

I'll lay me down and die ! 'Twas so for me that Edwin did,

And so for him will I." "Forbid it, Heaven!” the Hermit cried,

And clasped her to his breast: The wondering fair one turned to chides

'Twas Edwin's self that pressed ! “ Turn, Angelina, ever dear!

My charmer ! turn to see
Thy own, thy long-lost Edwin here,

Restored to love and thee.
"Thus let me hold thee to my heart,

And every care resign:
And shall we never, never part,

My life - my all that's mine?
-"No, never from this hour to part!

We'll live and love so true ;
The sigh that rends thy constant heart

Shall break thy Edwin's too !"

OBERON'S FEAST, A LITTLE mushroom's table spread; After short prayers, they set on bread, A moon-parch'd grain of purest wheat, With some small glittering grit, to eat His choicest bits with; then in a trice They make a feast less great than nice, But, all this while his eye is serv'd, We must not think his ear is stary'd But that there was in place, to stir His spleen, the chirpiog grasshopper, The merry cricket, puling fly, The piping gnat, for minstrelsy; And now we must imagine first The elves, present, to quench his thirst, A pure seed pearl of infant dew, Brought and esweetend in a blue And pregnant violet; which done, His kitling eyes begin to run Quite through the table, where he spies The horns of papery butterflies, Of which he eats; and tastes a little Of what we call the cuckoo's spittle; A little furze ball pudding stands By, yet not blessed by his hands, That was too coarse ; but then forthwith He ventures boldly on the pith Of sugar'd rush and eats the sag And well bestrutted bee's sweet bag; Gladding his palate with some store Of emmets' eggs; what would be more But beards of mice, a newt's stew'd thigh, A bloated earwig, and a fly ; With the red capp'd worm that is shut Within the concave of a nut, Brown as a tooth ; a little moth, Late fattened in a piece of cloth; With wither'd cherries; mandrake's ears ; Mole's eyes; to these the slain stag's tears; The unctuous dewlaps of a snail; The broke heart of a nightingale O'ercome in music, with a wide Ne'er ravish'd from the flattering vine, But gently press'd from the soft side Of the most sweet and dainty bride, Brought in a dainty daisy, which He fully quafis up to bewitch His blood to height! This done, commended Grace by the priest, the feast is ended.

THE LOST BOY. The little boy wandered away,

Nor thought what might betide him;
For he loved to ramble and play,

With his faithful dog beside him :
The flowers were gay, the trees were green

A pleasanter day was never seen ;-
The birds were singing on every spray,

As if they would flatter the boy away
When he'd none but his dog to guide him.
They rambled, rambled on-

The boy and dog, together,
In many a plea-ant path they run,

Nor knew, nor heeded whither ;-
But the sun is set and a storm seems near,

And the poor little boy is pale with fear; He thought the old trees grew dark and tall,

And as he ran you might hear him call-“Oh ! mother, do come hither !" His mother is all alone,

And sadly, sadly weeping;
The father to seck his son has gone,

And how can she think of sleeping ?
She watches the clock, she watches the skies--

Oh! where is my poor little boy? she cries; Oh ! where will he pillow his little head ?

And where can he find a sheltered bed, When the storm in its wrath is sweeping ? The morning is fresh and fair,

There's silver dew on the blossom, The mother she sits in her easy chair,

With the little boy on her bosom Oh, mother! dear mother! dont weep, I pray,

For never again will I ramble away I'll remember to ask if I wish to go.

And each little boy must remember it too, Leat his mother should grieve to lose him.

COME, child, look upwards to the sky,

Behold the sun and moon, The expanse of stars that sparkle high

To cheer the midnight gloom.
Come, child, and now behold the earth,

In varied beauty stand,
The product view of six days' birth,

How various and how grand.
The fields, the meadows, and the plain,

The little langhing bills,
The waters, too, the mighty main,

The rivers, and the rills.



THE SKYLARK. Thou shalt be mine, thou simplest

BIRD of the wilderness, flower,

Blithesome and numberless, Tenting thyself beneath the bower

Light be thy matin o'er moorland and Thy little leaves have made ;

lea! So meekly shrinking from the eye,

Emblem of happiness! Yet mark'd by every passer by

Bless’d is thy dwelling place ! Of thine own sweets betrayed.

O to abide in the desert with thee! The rose may boast a brighter hue,

Wild is thy lay and loud, May breathe as rich a fragrance too,

Far in the downy cloud; Yet let her yield to thee;

Love gives it energy, lovegave it birth. Not hers thy modesty of dress,

Where, on thy dewy wing, Not hers thy witching artlessness,

Where art thou journeying! And these are more to me.

Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on

earth. Dear emblem of the meek-eyed maid, Whom, nurtur'd 'mid retirement's

O'er fell and fountain sheen, shade,

O'er moor and mountain green, The world hath never known

O'er the red streamer that heralds the Who loves to glide unseen along,

day; Upnotic'd by the idle throng

Over the cloudlet dim,
Whom fashion calls her own;

Over the rainbows' rim,

Musical cherub, hie, hie thee away! Who shines, nor her own shining sees,

Then when the gloaming comes, Who pleases without toil to please

Low in the heather blooms, Unstain'd, untouch'd by art; Distinguish'd by that choicest gem

A DOG crossing a little foot-bridge over a rivulet, with a piece of Sweet will thy welcome and bed of meat in his mouth, saw his own image reflected in the glassy sur

love be! That lights up virtue’s diadem

face of the water. Believing it to be another dog carrying also a Emblem of happiness! A“meek and quiet heart."

piece of meat, the greedy cur snatched at it, at the same time drop- Bless'd is thy dwelling-place !

ping the piece he carried into the water, where it sunk and was lost. O to abide in the desert with thee ! WHAT I WOULD BE.

Thus, by grasping at the shadow he lost the reality.
I WOULD not be a garden flower,

Just to please thine eye
With my beauty for an hour,
This world is full of shadow.chasers,

A. APPLE-PIE. Then all-forgotten die. Most easily deceived ;

WHO WAS CUT IN PIECES, AND EATEN I would be the fruitage joyous Should I enumerate those racers,

Of the glowing vine;
I should not be believed.

A. Apple-pie, B bit it,
Making thy life glad and glorious
I send them all to Æsop's Dog,

C cut it, D dealt it,
With my golden wine.
Which, crossing water on a log,

E eat it, F fought for it,
Espied the meat he bore, below:

G got it, H halved it,
I would not be the weak flame shining
To seize its image, let it go.

I ey'd it, J join'd for it, K kept it,
On thy page of life,
Plunged in ; to reach the shore was glad,

L longed for it, M mourned for it, To every idle breeze inclining With neither what he hoped, nor what he'd had.

N nodded at it, О open': it, In coquettish strife.

P peep'd in it, Q quartered it, I would be the changeless star-fire

R ran for it, S stole it,
Thou could'st trust to guide

T took it, U upset it, V view'd it,
Thy weary feet through gloom and mire
The sun is hidden from our sight,

W wanted it, X crossed it,
When the lamp had died.

The birds are sleeping sound;

Y yearn d for it, Z put it in his pocket. 'Tis time to say to all, Good night!"

& Ampersy-and wished for a piece in hand, And give a kiss all round.

At last they every one agreed
Good night! my father, mother dear,

Upon the apple-pie to feed;
Now kiss your little son ;

But as there seem'd to be so many,
WILL you not buy my flowers?
Good night! my friends both far and near,

Those who were last might not have any, I bave been on the primrose hill,

Good night to every one!

Unless some method there was taken I have been where the lily builds silver bowers

That every one might save their bacon, On the edge of the singing rill, Good night ! ye merry, merry birds,

They all agreed to stand in order

Sleep well till morning light; I follow'd the bee, where the sallow grows

Around the apple-pie's fine border,
By the amaranth dim and pale ;

Perhaps, if you could sing in words,
You would have said, "Good night !"

In equal parts the pie divide.
And I track'd the butterfly's wing to the rose,
In her palace of the vale.

To all my pretty flowers, good night!
You blossom while I sleep;

Choose what you love the best, –

And all the stars which shine so bright

Thou cheerful Bee! come, freely come, All cull'd in the cool, fresh morn;

With you their watches keep.

And travel round my woodbine bower; For I waken'd the lark from the daisy's breast, In the depths of the waving corn. The moon is lighting up the skies,

Delight me with thy wandering hum, A rainbow might have dyed this wreath,

The stars are sparkling there;

And rouse me from my musing hour. 'Tis time to shut our weary eyes,

Oh ! try no more those tedious fields; It has every scent and hue That is born of the west wind's-wooing breath,

And say our evening prayer.

Come taste the sweets my garden yields ;

The treasures of each blooming mine, Or wak'd by the early dew!

The bud, the blossom,--all are thine Fragrant, and sweet, and fair !


And, careless of the noontide heat Yet they neither toil, nor spin,


I'll follow as thy ramble guides, But they have not known the touch of care,

Say Grace : it is not time misspent;

To watch thee pause and chafe thy feet, Nor the taint of mortal sin:

Worst food this betters - and the best,

And sweep them o'er thy downy sides. Beside their beauty pure and lone,

Wanting this natural condiment,

Then in a flower bell nestling lie, The glow of earthly fame,

Breeds crudeness, and will not digest.

And all thy busiest ardour ply, Or the pomp and pride of Solomon,


Then o'er the stem, though fair it grow, Is a vain and empty name.

God loves no heart to others iced,

With touch rejecting, glance and go.

Nor erring flatteries which bedim, Is not my calling sweet

0, Nature kind! O, labourer wise ! To dwell amid beautiful things ?

Our glorious membership of Christ,

That roam'st along the summer ray,

Wherein all loving His love Him. Flowers giving perfume at my feet,

Glean’st every bliss thy life supplies, And birds like flowers with wings?

And meet'st prepared thy wintry day. Oh ! happy they who shun the strife

blessings ask a blessed mood :

Go-envied, go-with crowded gates
Of pride, or passion's hours ;

The sauce is here much more than meat : The hive thy rich return awaits ; And glide along the calms of life

Happy who chooses gratitude !

Bear home thy store in triumph gay, Like me, dispensing flowers !

That wanting, God will try regret.

And shame each idler on thy way.



London: Printed by TAYLOR and GREENING, Graystoke-place, Fetter-lane; and published for the Propriotors by W. KENT and Co., Paternoster-row.

Agents for the Continent: W. S. KIRKLAND and Co., 27, Rue de Richelieu, Paris,



VOL. I.—No. 6.




groans and lamentations. Despair will prey upon thy youth ; and

thou wilt die, without a friend to close thine eyes, or shed over thee A TALE.

the tears of affection : thy poor remains will be exposed to the heat PART THE FIRST.

of the noon-day sun, or become the prey of the birds of heaven. ANY years of affliction had passed since the fatal night Ye rocky caves, intercept the voice of my lamentation ! Ye solitary upon which the furious waves had torn from the main land shades ! to whom alone I can confide my griefs, assist me to conceal

the cottage of Milon, built on a little promontory: the from her my affliction, that a happy ignorance may prevent her ocean had buried in its tremendous abyss the fertile plains which from comprehending the whole extent of her deplorable situation.” joined to the continent the pleasant spot he inhabited. This dwell

Such were the complaints of Semira ; and thus she hid from her ing, now situated on a solitary island, was separated so far from the daughter the bitter anxiety with which her maternal heart was opposite shore, that even when the profoundest calm reigned over

torn. the air and ocean, and even the zephyrs could not rouse themselves

Melida, however, full of innocence and gaiety, sported with the to agitate the smallest flower, its inhabitants could not hear the tender lambs, who had no want of a shepherd : for the sea on every lowing of the peaceful herd grazing on the opposite shore. All joy side bounded their little pastures. She amused herself in twining was denied them : shut out for ever from the sweet intercourse of together odoriferous shrubs, to form bowers : she was the tutelar society, and the tender cares of friendship which the gods had before divinity of the plants ; she raised the drooping flowers, and ensured granted then in common with all mankind. The wretched Semira to them a happy growth by propping their tender stalks: sometimes had long ago buried Milon, her beloved husband. In this sad she prepared for the obstructed rivulet a channel among the rocks, solitude she passed her days with Melida her daughter, having or gathered together its waters to form a little lake. Around the nothing to soothe her sorrows but her little flock and the fowls of isle she had planted a double row of fruit trees; and, beautiful as the air.

Venus in the Isle of Paphos, she walked alone beneath their glowing Melida grew up in all the bloom of beauty, unseen and unadmired. shade. She had also decorated a grotto which nature had formed Her form was blither than the young fruit-tree when first it puts in a rock, which was washed by the sea, for solitude fertilises our forth its rosy blossoms; and had a happier fate placed her in society, ideas : the sides of the grotto were adorned with shells which the among the fair, she would have always appeared the fairest.

sea had cast on the shore, which she arranged according to the variety The tender Semira endeavoured to avoid embittering the solitude

of their forms and colours. A shell of prodigious size received the of her daughter, by carefully concealing from her all the charms crystal drops of a rill which fell from the arched roof of the grotto, of social life which were enjoyed by the happy inhabitants of the with a sweet and lulling sound ; while thick branching jessamine opposite shore, as she knew it would only render her a prey to un- adorned its entrance. availing regret, by inspiring her with a taste for pleasure which she In the midst of these innocent occupations the days of Melida was destined never to enjoy. Every day the unhappy widow passed by without her perceiving that she was alone; sixteen years repaired to the tomb of Milon, to consecrate an hour to lamentation of her life had thus fled away, when she began to feel that she was and tears.

lonely. Seated under the shade of the bowers she had formed, pen“Alas! thou art no more !” thus every day she gave utterance to sive and melancholy, these were her reflections : her sorrow : “ Thou art no more, Othou, the consolation of my life, “What has been the design of the gods, in placing us in this my support in our hopeless misery! Abandoned_enclosed by the solitude ? Far less blessed than the dumb companions of our solitude, impassable ocean, what will be our fate? The rigour of our destiny why have we existed, to what end do we still exist ?. Alas ! I feel, cannot be sostened by the compassion of friendship, and all human aid by the sadness which consumes me, there is something inseparable is denied us. Oh, Melida, my dear child ! why cannot I see thee from my being, something which I cannot name, of which I am also expire ! Alas ! such is the hopelessness of my condition, that to deprived ! No, nature never intended me for this seclusion ! Cerbehold thee dead has become the most ardent of my wishes. Unto tainly we have been placed here by some extraordinary revolution thee life is a curse, for if I die thou wilt remain here alone in the of which my mother keeps me ignorant. A mysterious melancholy bloom of thy youth. Frightful prospect ! Thou wilt remain here is impressed on her countenance : and whenever I question her about alone, surrounded by the waste of waters, with no other companion our condition, her eyes overflow with tears, in spite of her efforts than thy anguish and despair. No human sound will ever reach to conceal them from me. Her constant answer is, 'Let us hope thine ear ; thou wilt never hear the voice of a tender husband, everything from the beneficent wisdom of the gods, and submit whom thy charms and thy virtues would render happy ; nor the without murmuring to their decrees.'" endearing name of mother pronounced by lisping children : the “Well, since it must be so, let me endeavour to resign myself to accents of joy will be unknown to thee ; the caves of the rocks and their divine will

, without wishing to penetrate into the mysterious the solitary shades will re-echo no sound but that of thine own secrets of futurity."

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