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And the husband sat cheerily down by her side,
And looked with delight on the face of his bride.
“Oh, happy !” said he, “when our roaming is o'er;
We'll dwell in a cottage that stands by the shore !
Already in fancy its roof I descry,
And the smoke of its hearth curling up to the sky;
Its garden so green, and its vine-covered wall,
And the kind friends awaiting to welcome us all.”

Hark! hark !-what was that? Hark! hark to the shout!--
“Fire ! fire !”—then a tramp and a rush and a rout;
And an uproar of voices arose in the air,
And the mother knelt down, and the half-spoken prayer
That she offered to God, in her agony wild,
Was, “ Father, have mercy ! look down on my child !"
She flew to her husband, she clung to his side ;-
Oh! there was her refuge whatever betide !

Fire ! fire ! it is raging above and below ;
And the smoke and hot cinders all blindingly blow.
The cheek of the sailor grew pale at the sight,
And his eyes glistened wild in the glare of the light.
The smoke in thick wreaths mounted higher and higher !
O God, it is fearful to perish by fire !
Alone with destruction !-alone on the sea !
Great Father of Mercy, our hope is in thee !
They prayed for the light, and at noontide about
The sun o'er the waters shone joyously out.
“A sail, ho! a sail !” cried the man on the lee;
“A sail !" and they turned their glad eyes o'er the sea.

They see us ! they see us! the signal is waved !
They bear down upon us !—thank God! we are saved !"

C. Mackar.

THE CONTENTED AND VIRTUOUS WOODCUTTER. 'GOOD-MORROW !" the youth to the woodcutter cried,

“Father Peter, so frank and so free.” With a smile of good-nature, the old man replied,

“ Master Francis, good-morrow to thee!

'Tis a good thing to rise with the lark, Master Frank,

When the fresh morning breezes abound; Ere the sun rises high in the clear blue sky,

And the flow'rets are springing around.”

You're a happy old man, Father Peter, and yet

I hardly know why you are so;
For your cheerfulness almost would make one forget

That your head is as white as the snow.
The cares and afflictions which others oppress,

Appear to disturb you-no never!
Though your path all around may with shadows abound,

Your heart seems as cheerful as ever.”

“ Master Francis, whate'er be thy joys in the world,

Whate'er be the griefs that arise,
When the darts of distress and affliction are hurled,

Look above, for a Friend in the skies.
Then the grace of thy God shall establish thy heart,

And support thee in glare and in gloom;
And when winter is spread o'er thy time-furrowed head,

The spring in thy bosom shall bloom.”

“Father Peter, your body resembles the oak,

Decked with leaves, though its trunk may decline;
There is health in your features, and strength in your stroke,

And your cheek is more ruddy than mine.
There is something still better than health in your face,

But I never observed it till now;
You are aged and poor, and must troubles endure,

And yet there is hope on your brow.”
“And what in this world should he fear, Master Frank,

Who believes there's a better in storeThat the dawn of a glorious day will appear

When the shadows of midnight are o'er ? While thou sett'st thy young heart on the things of this

world, Distraction and care will be given ; But thy sorrow would cease, and thy soul rest in peace,

If thy treasure and heart were in heaven.”

“How many that live in the prime of their day,

Despond when their prospects are fair;
And hang down their heads, as they walk on their way,

In darkness, and doubt, and despair!
Father Peter, your footsteps are near to the grave,

In a very few years you must die,
And still on your tongue words of comfort are hung,

And hope brightly beams in your eye.”

“While our minds are fast bound by an earthly control,

The world must in trouble be trod;
But a hope bright as daylight shall dwell in his soul

Who depends on his Saviour and God.
Master Frank, though the floods were fierce raging abroad,

Though the world were encircled with fire,
He would still be at rest, with a peace in his breast,

And a hope that shall never expire.

Master Francis, a thousand enjoyments are near,

And ten thousand temptations attend;
But believing in Christ you have nothing to fear,

For he died to redeem, and still lives to defend.
If thou make him thy hope, and thy trust, and thy all,

In preparing for life's swift decline;
If thou cling to his truth in the days of thy youth,
Thy age shall be happy as mine.”



BETWEEN Nose and Eyes a strange contest arose

The spectacles set them, unhappily, wrong;
The point in dispute was, as all the world knows,

To which the said spectacles ought to belong.

So Tongue was the lawyer, and argued the cause

With a great deal of skill, and a wig full of learning; While chief baron Ear sat to balance the laws,

So famed for his talent in nicely discerning.

“In behalf of the Nose it will quickly appear,

And your lordship,” he said, “will undoubtedly find, That the Nose has had spectacles always in wear ;

Which amounts to possession time out of mind.”

Then holding the spectacles up to the court

“ Your lordship observes they are made with a straddle, As wide as the ridge of the nose is ; in short,

Designed to sit close to it, just like a saddle.

Again : would your lordship a moment suppose

('Tis a case that has happened, and may be again) That the visage or countenance had not a nose;

Pray who would, or who could, wear spectacles then?

On the whole it appears, and my argument shows,

With a reasoning the court will never condemn, That the spectacles plainly were made for the Nose,

And the Nose was as plainly intended for them.”

Then shifting his side (as a lawyer knows how),

He pleaded again in behalf of the Eyes ;
But what were his arguments few people know,

For the court did not think they were equally wise.

So his lordship decreed, with a grave, solemn tone,

Decisive and clear, without one if or but,
That whenever the Nose put his spectacles on,
By day-light or candle-light-Eyes should be shut!



A FORWARD hare, of swiftness vain,
The genius of the neighbouring plain,
Would oft deride the drudging crowd ;
For geniuses are ever proud.
He'd boast his flight 'twere vain to follow-
For dog and horse, he'd beat them hollow;
Nay, if he put forth all his strength,
Outstrip his brethren half a length!

A tortoise heard his vain oration,
And vented thus his indignation :
"O puss ! it bodes thee dire disgrace
When I defy thee to a race.
Come, 'tis a match-nay, no denial;
I lay my shell upon the trial !”
'Twas “done,” and done all fair, a “bet,”
Judges prepared, and distance set.
The scampering hare outstripped the wind;
The creeping tortoise lagged behind,
And scarce had passed a single pole
When puss had almost reached the goal.
“Friend tortoise,” quoth the jeering hare,
“Your burden's more than you can bear;
To help your speed it were as well
That I should ease you of your shell:
Jog on a little faster, pr’ythee;
I'll take a nap, and then be with thee."
The tortoise heard his taunting jeer, .
But still resolved to persevere;
On to the goal securely crept,
While puss unknowing soundly slept.
The bets were won, the hare awoke,
When thus the victor tortoise spoke:
“Puss, though I own thy quicker parts,
Things are not always done by starts.
You may deride my awkward pace,
But slow and steady wins the race.



THEY lighted a taper at the dead of night,

And chanted their holiest hymn;
But her brow and her bosom were damp with affright,

Her eye was all sleepless and dim!
And the lady of Elderslie wept for her lord,

When a death-watch beat in her lonely room,
When her curtain had shook of its own accord,

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