Yes, thou must go! the wild free breeze, the brilliant sun and sky, Thy master's home-from all of these my exiled one must fly: Thy proud dark eye will grow less proud, thy step become less fleet, And vainly shalt thou arch thy neck thy master's hand to meet. Only in sleep shall I behold that dark eye glancing bright, Only in sleep shall hear again that step so firm and light; And when I raise my dreaming arm to check or cheer thy speed, Then must I starting wake, to feel-thou'rt sold, my Arab steed. Ah! rudely then, unseen by me, some cruel hand may chide, Till foam-wreaths lie, like crested waves, along thy panting side; And the rich blood that is in thee swells in thy indignant pain, Till careless eyes which rest on thee may count each started vein. Will they ill-use thee? If I thought-but no, it cannot be ; Thou art so swift, yet easy curbed; so gentle, yet so free: And yet if haply, when thou'rt gone, my lonely heart should yearn, Can the hand which casts thee from it now command thee to return? Return! alas, my Arab steed! what shall thy master do, When thou, who wert his all of joy, hast vanished from his view? When the dim distance cheats mine eye, and through the gathering tears Thy bright form for a moment like the false mirage appears? Slow and unmounted will I roam, with weary foot alone, Where with fleet step and joyous bound thou oft hast borne me on; And sitting down by the green well, I'll pause, and sadly think, "It was here he bowed his glossy neck when last I saw him drink!" When last I saw thee drink!-away! the fevered dream is o'er ; I could not live a day and know that we should meet no more. They tempted me, my beautiful! for hunger's power is strong They tempted me, my beautiful! but I have loved too long. Who said that I had given thee up? Who said that thou wert sold? 'Tis false 'tis false, my Arab steed!--I fling them back their gold! Thus, thus I leap upon thy back, and scour the distant plains ; Away! who overtakes us now shall claim thee for his pains! HON. MRS. NORTON. THE LIFE-BOAT MAN the life-boat! man the life-boat! See the ark of refuge launching ; Now the fragile bark is hanging Courage! courage! she's in safety! With her precious cargo freighted, Now the life-boat nears the shore; Parents, brethren, friends embracing Blessings on the dauntless spirits, Christian pause, and deeply ponder : The sinking ship, the storm, the life-boat, Here's a storm, a fearful tempest, O remember Him who saved you, Whose right hand deliverance wrought: 'Tis His voice now cheers you onward,- C. H. PURDAY. THE FOX AND THE CAT. A Fox and a cat, as they travelled one day, With moral discourses cut shorter the way: 66 66 "Tis great," says the fox, "to make justice our guide!" How god-like is mercy!" Grimalkin replied. Whilst thus they proceeded, a wolf from the wood, "In vain, wretched victim, for mercy you bleat; "What a wretch !" says the cat--" 'tis the vilest of brutes; Does he feed upon flesh when there's herbage and roots?" Cries the fox, "While our oaks give us acorns so good, What a tyrant is this, to spill innocent blood!” Well, onward they marched, and they moralized still, A spider that sat in her web on the wall, J. CUNNINGHAM. DEATH AND BURIAL OF A CHILD AT SEA. My boy refused his food, forgot to play, Ah! mány a sad and sleepless night I passed No mournful flowers, by weeping fondness laid, No more his sad eye looked me into tears! I gazed upon him still-not wild with fears- Stirred by the breeze, played, trembling on his cheek ;-- But, to commit him to the watery grave, O'er which the winds, unwearied mourners, rave, |