WICLIF.

ONCE more the church is seized with sudden fear,

And at her call is Wiclif disinhumed:
Yea, his dry bones to ashes are consumed
And flung into the brook that travels near ;
Forthwith that ancient Voice which streams
can hear

Thus speaks (that Voice which walks upon the wind,

Though seldom heard by busy human-kind) : "As thou these ashes, little brook, wilt bear Into the Avon, Avon to the tide

Of Severn, Severn to the narrow seas,
Into the main ocean they, this deed accurst
An emblem yields to friends and enemies
How the bold Teacher's doctrine, sanctified
By truth, shall spread throughout the world
dispersed."

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

'T was but the ruin of the bad,
The wasting of the wrong and ill;
Whate'er of good the old time had
Was living still.

Calm grew the brows of him I feared;
The frown which awed me passed away,
And left behind a smile which cheered
Like breaking day.

The grain grew green on battle-plains,

O'er swarded war-mounds grazed the cow; The slave stood forging from his chains The spade and plough.

Where frowned the fort, pavilions gay

And cottage windows, flower-entwined,
Looked out upon the peaceful bay
And hills behind.

Through vine-wreathed cups with wine once

red,

The lights on brimming crystal fell, Drawn, sparkling, from the rivulet head And mossy well.

Through prison walls, like Heaven-sent hope, Fresh breezes blew, and sunbeams strayed, And with the idle gallows-rope

The young child played.

Where the doomed victim in his cell
Had counted o'er the weary hours,
Glad school-girls, answering to the bell,
Came crowned with flowers.

ST AUGUSTINE.

WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER, a counsellor-at-law, of New York City, is son of the late Benjamin F. Butler, who was member of the Cabinet during the administration of President Jackson. He was born at Albany, N. Y, in 1825, and has resided mostly in the city of New York, from the University of which he graduated in 1843. His poems have been collected in a volume, published in Boston. The best known of them is entitled " of City Life" Nothing to Wear; an Episode It appeared without author's name, in Many editions of

"Harpers' Weekly," in February, 1857it were issued, and it was even advertised in London, with humanitarian tracts, as an indication of the evils of the

dressmaking system.

Mr. Butler has contributed to the

periodicals of the day both prose and verse: CHARLEMAGNE, the mighty monarch,

As through Metten wood he strayed, Found the holy hermit, Hutto,

Toiling in the forest glade.

In his hand the woodman's hatchet, By his side the knife and twine, There he cut and bound the fagots From the gnarled and stunted pine.

Well the monarch knew the hermit

For his pious works and cares, And the wonders which had followed From his vigils, fasts, and prayers.

Much he marvelled now to see him

Toiling thus, with axe and cord; And he cried in scorn, "O Father, Is it thus you serve the Lord ?”

1871.

WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER