The door was off the latch; they peep'd, and

saw

The boy set up betwixt his grandsire's knees,
Who thrust him in the hollows of his arm,

And clapt him on the hands and on the cheeks,
Like one that loved him; and the lad stretched

out

And babbled for the golden seal that hung
From Allan's watch, and sparkled by the fire.
Then they came in, but when the boy beheld
His mother, he cried out to come to her;
And Allan set him down, and Mary said:

"Oh, Father! if you let me call you soI never came a-begging for myself,

Or William, or this child; but now I come
For Dora; take her back, she loves you well.
Oh, sir, when William died, he died at peace
With all men; for I asked him, and he said
He could not ever rue his marrying me—
I had been a patient wife: but, sir, he said
That he was wrong to cross his father thus:
'God bless him!' he said, and may he never
know

The troubles I have gone through !' Then he turned

His face and passed-unhappy that I am!

But now, sir, let me have my boy; for you
Will make him hard, and he will learn to slight
His father's memory; and take Dora back,

And let all this be as it was before."

So Mary said, and Dora hid her face

By Mary. There was silence in the room; And all at once the old man burst in sobs :— "I have been to blame-to blame. I have killed my son.

I have killed him-but I loved him-my dear

son.

May God forgive me!-I have been to blame. Kiss me, my children."

times.

Then they clung about The old man's neck, and kissed him many And all the man was broken with remorse; And all his love came back a hundredfold; And for three hours he sobbed o'er William's

child,

Thinking of William.

So those four abode

Within one house together; and as years
Went forward, Mary took another mate;
But Dora lived unmarried till her death.

Tennyson.

U

A FAREWELL.

Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea,
Thy tribute wave deliver:

No more by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.

Flow, softly flow, by lawn and lea,
A rivulet-then a river;

No where by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.

But here will sigh thine alder tree,
And here thine aspen shiver;
And here by thee will hum the bee,
For ever and for ever.

A thousand suns will stream on thee,
A thousand moons will quiver ;
But not by thee my steps shall be,

For ever and for ever.

Tennyson.

SONG.

BREAK, break, break,

On thy cold gray stones, O Sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me.

O well for the fisherman's boy,

That he shouts with his sister at play!" O well for the sailor lad,

That he sings in his boat on the bay!

And the stately ships go on

To their haven under the hill;

But O for the touch of a vanish'd hand, And the sound of a voice that is still !

Break, break, break,

At the foot of thy crags, O Sea!

But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.

Tennyson.

THE THREE SONS.

I have a son, a little son, a boy just five years old, With eyes of thoughtful earnestness, and mind of gentle mould.

They tell me that unusual grace in all his ways appears,

That my child is grave and wise of heart beyond his childish years.

I cannot say how this may be, I know his face is fair,

And yet his chiefest comeliness is his sweet and serious air;

I know his heart is kind and fond, I know he loveth me,

But loveth yet his mother more with grateful fervency;

But that which others most admire, is the thought which fills his mind,

The food for grave enquiring speech he everywhere doth find.

Strange questions doth he ask of me, when we together walk;

He scarcely thinks as children think, or talks as children talk.