"What strange events can strike with more surprise,

Than those which lately struck thy wondering

eyes?

Yet, taught by these, confess the Almighty just, And where you can't unriddle, learn to trust!

"The great, vain man, who fared on costly food,

Whose life was too luxurious to be good;
Who made his ivory stands with goblets shine,
And forced his guests to morning draughts of
wine,

Has, with the cup, the graceless custom lost,
And still he welcomes, but with less of cost.
"The mean, suspicious wretch, whose bolted
door

Ne'er moved in duty to the wandering poor;
With him I left the cup, to teach his mind
That Heaven can bless, if mortals will be kind.
Conscious of wanting worth, he views the bowl,
And feels compassion touch his grateful soul.
Thus artists melt the sullen ore of lead,
With heaping coals of fire upon its head;
In the kind warmth the metal learns to glow,
And loose from dross the silver runs below.

"Long had our pious friend in virtue trod, But now the child half weaned his heart from God;

(Child of his age) for him he lived in pain, And measured back his steps to Earth again.

To what excesses had his dotage run?
But God, to save the father, took the son.
To all but thee, in fits he seemed to go,
(And 'twas my ministry to deal the blow,)
The poor fond parent, humbled in the dust,
Now owns in tears the punishment was just.

"But now had all his fortune felt a wrack,
Had that false servant sped in safety back;
This night his treasured heaps he meant to steal,
And what a fund of charity would fail!
Thus Heaven instructs thy mind; this trial o'er,
Depart in peace, resign, and sin no more."

On sounding pinions here the youth withdrew, The sage stood wondering as the seraph flew. Thus looked Elisha when, to mount on high, His Master took the chariot of the sky; The fiery pomp ascending left to view; The prophet gazed, and wished to follow too. The bending hermit here a prayer begun, "Lord! as in Heaven, on Earth thy will be done."

Then gladly turning, sought his ancient place, And passed a life of piety and peace.

Parnell.

AULD ROBIN GRAY.

(SCOTCH DIALECT.)

When the sheep are in the fauld,* and the kye+ at hame,

And all the world to sleep are gane,

The woes of my heart fall in showers frae my e'e,

While my gudeman lies sound by me.

Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and sought me for his bride,

But saving a crown he had naething mair beside. To make the crown a pound, my Jamie gaed to

sea;

And the crown and the pound were baith for

'me!

He hadna been gane a week but only twa, When my father brak his arm, and our cow was stown § awa;

My mother she fell sick, and my Jamie at the sea;

And auld Robin Gray came a-courting me!

Fold.

+ Cows.

+ From.

§ Stolen.

My father couldna work, my mother couldna

spin;

I toiled day and night, but their bread I couldna win;

Auld Rob maintained them baith, and, wi' tears

in his ee,

Said: "Jenaie for their sakes, will you no marry me?"

My heart it said na-I look'd for Jamie back; But the wind it blew high, and the ship it was a wrack;

His ship it was a wrack-why didna Jeanie dee?

Oh! why do I live to say "Wae's me?"

My father argued sair; my mother didna speak, But she looked in my face, till my heart was like to break;

So they gi'ed him my hand, though my heart was at the sea;

And auld Robin Gray is gudeman to me.

I hadna been a wife a week but only four, When, mournful as I sat on the stane at the

door,

I saw my Jamie's wraith,* I.couldna think it he, Till he said, "I'm come hame, my love, to marry thee."

Oh sair did we greet, and mickle did we say;

We took but ae kiss and we tore ourselves

away.

I wish that I were dead, but I'm no like to dee; Oh! why was I born to say, "Wae's me!"

I

gang like a ghaist, and I carena to spin,

I darena think on Jamie, for that would be a

sin :

But I will do my best a gude wife aye to be, For auld Robin Gray, is a kind gudeman to