The First approach'd the Elephant, Against his broad and sturdy side, "God bless me! but the Elephant The Second, feeling of the tusk, So This wonder of an Elephant very like a spear!" Is The Third approach'd the animal, The squirming trunk within his hands, "I see "-quoth he—" the Elephant very like a snake!" Is The Fourth reach'd out his eager hand, "What most this wondrous beast is like Is mighty plain "—quoth he,""Tis clear enough the Elephant Is very like a tree!" The Fifth, who chanced to touch the ear, Deny the fact who can, This marvel of an Elephant Is very like a fan!" The Sixth no sooner had begun About the beast to grope, Then, seizing on the swinging tail "I see"-quoth he," the Elephant And so these men of Indostan MORAL. So, oft in theologic wars IM GROWING OLD. My days pass pleasantly away, My nights are blest with sweetest sleep; I feel no symptoms of decay, I have no cause to mourn nor weep; My foes are impotent and shy, My friends are neither false nor cold: And yet, of late, I often sigh "I'm growing old." My growing talk of olden times, My growing love of easy shoes, I'm growing fonder of my staff, I'm growing careless of my dress, I see it in my changing taste, Ah me! my very laurels breathe The secret she would fain withhold, And tell me, in "How young you are!"I'm growing old. Thanks for the years whose rapid flight My sombre muse too sadly sings! Thanks for the gleams of golden light That tint the darkness of their wings! The light that beams from out the sky, Those heavenly mansions to unfold Where all are blest, and none may sigh— "I'm growing old!" KISS ME SOFTLY. KISS me softly and speak to me low, Kiss me softly and speak to me low. Kiss me softly and speak to me low,— What if Envy should chance to hear? Kiss me softly and speak to me low. Kiss me softly and speak to me low: Kiss me softly and speak to me low. ROBERT TRAIL SPENCE LOWELL, THE RELIEF OF LUCKNOW. OH! that last day in Lucknow fort! That the enemy's mines had crept surely in, To yield to that foe meant worse than death; It was one day more, of smoke and roar, There was one of us, a corporal's wife, A fair young gentle thing, Wasted with fever in the siege, And her mind was wandering. She lay on the ground in her Scottish plaid, And I took her head on my knee; "When my father comes hame frae the pleugh"-she said— "Oh! please then waken me.” She slept like a child on her father's floor In the flecking of woodbine-shade, When the house-dog sprawls by the open door, And the mother's wheel is stay'd. It was smoke and roar, and powder-stench, And hopeless waiting for death; But the soldier's wife, like a full-tired child, I sank to sleep, and I had my dream And wall and garden ;- -a sudden scream There Jessie Brown stood listening, "The Highlanders! Oh! dinna ye hear The McGregor's? Ah! I ken it weel; "God bless thae bonny Highlanders! Along the battery-line her cry Had fallen among the men; And they started, for they were there to die: Was life so near them then? They listen'd, for life; and the rattling fire Far off, and the far-off roar Were all;-and the colonel shook his head, Then Jessie said "That slogan's dune; The Campbells are comin'? It's no a dream; We heard the roar and the rattle afar, |