I

I told my wrath, my wrath did end;

I was angry with my foe,

I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I water'd it in fears,

Night and morning, with my tears,

And I sunned it with smiles

And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright,
And my foe beheld it shine,

And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole

When the night had veil'd the pole :
In the morning glad I see,

My foe outstretch'd beneath the tree.

A LITTLE GIRL LOST.

CH

HILDREN of the future age,
Reading this indignant page,

Know that in a former time,

Love, sweet love, was thought a crime!

In the Age of Gold,

Free from winter's cold,

Youth and maiden bright,

To the holy light,

Naked in the sunny beams delight.

Once a youthful pair,
Fill'd with softest care,
Met in garden bright,

Where the holy light

Had just removed the curtains of the night.

Then, in rising day,

On the grass they play;

Parents were afar,

Strangers came not near,

And the maiden soon forgot her fear.

Tired with kisses sweet,

They agree to meet,

When the silent sleep

Waves o'er heaven's deep,

And the weary tired wanderers weep.

To her father white

Came the maiden bright;

But his loving look,

Like the holy book,

All her tender limbs with terror shook.

Ona! pale and weak!

To thy father speak!

Oh! the trembling fear !

Oh! the dismal care

That shakes the blossoms of my hoary hair.

A DIVINE IMAGE.

RUELTY has a human heart,

CRUEL

And Jealousy a human face; Terror the human form divine, And Secrecy the human dress.

The human dress is forged iron,

The human form a fiery forge,

The human face a furnace seal'd,
The human heart its hungry gorge.

L

D

THE LITTLE VAGABOND.

EAR mother, dear mother, the church is cold,
But the ale-house is healthy and pleasant and

warm;

Besides I can tell where I am used well,
Such usage in heaven will never do well.

But if at the church they would give us some ale
And a pleasant fire our souls to regale,
We'd sing and we'd pray all the livelong day:
Nor ever once wish from the church to stray.

Then the parson might preach and drink and sing,
And we'd be as happy as birds in the spring:
And modest dame Lurch, who is always at church,
Would not have bandy children nor fasting nor birch.

And God like a Father rejoicing to see

His children as pleasant and happy as He,

Would have no more quarrel with the devil or the

barrel,

But kiss him and give him both drink and apparel.