But then poor mother did so cry,

And look'd so changed, I cannot tell! She told us that she soon should die, And bade us love each other well.

"She said that when the war was o'er, Perhaps our father we might see: But if we never saw him more,

That God would then our father be.

"She kiss'd us both, and then she died,
And then they put her in the grave:
There, many a day we've sat and cried,
That we no more a mother have.

"But when our father came not here,
I thought if we could find the sea
We should be sure to meet him there,
And once again might happy be.

"So, hand-in-hand for many a mile,
And many a long, long day we went:
Some sigh'd to see, some turn'd to smile,
And fed us when our stock was spent.

"But when we reach'd the sea, and found
'Twas one great flood before us spread,
We thought that father must be drown'd,
And cried, and wish'd we too were dead.

"So we came back to mother's grave,
And only long with her to be:
For Goody, when this bread she gave,
Said father died beyond the sea.

"So, since no parent we have here,
We'll go and search for God around:-
Pray, Lady, can you tell us where

That God, our Father, may be found?

"He lives in heaven, our mother said:

And Goody says that mother's there:

But though we've walk'd, and search'd, and pray'd,
We cannot find them anywhere!"

I clasp'd the prattlers3 in my arms,

I cried, "Come, both, and live with me!
I'll clothe and feed you safe from harms-
Your second mother I will be.

"Till you to your own mother's side
He in his own good time may call,
With Him for ever to abide

Who is the Father of us all!"

THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,2
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.5

3 prattlers, simple talkers.
'Sennacherib, IL. Kings xix. 35.

2 fold, Sennacherib, King of Assyria, had come against Jerusalem, to besiege it. 3 cohorts, companies of troops.

5 Galilee, the Lake of Galilee.

4 sheen, shining.

Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
That host with their banners at sun-set were seen;
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay wither'd and strown.

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'd;
And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!

And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,
But through it there roll'd not the breath of his pride;
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.

And there lay the rider, distorted and pale,

With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail;
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.

And the widows of Ashur" are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal,"
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!

8

- 55

A GOOD DEED.

How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

6 Ashur, Assyria.

Baal, the chief god of the Assyrians.

Gentile. The Jews called all other nations "Gentiles."

I CLIMB'D the dark brow of the mighty Helvellyn,'
Lakes and mountains beneath me gleam'd misty and wide;
All was still, save by fits, when the eagle was yelling,

And starting around me the echoes replied.

On the right, Striden-edge2 round the Red-tarn3 was bending And Catchedicám2 its left verge1 was defending,

One huge nameless rock in the front was ascending,

When I mark'd the sad spot where the wanderer had died.

*In the Spring of 1805 a young gentleman lost his way on Helvellyn, and perished. His body was not found for three months, but then it was discovered still guarded by his faithful dog.

'Helvellyn, a high mountain in Cumberland.

3 Red-tarn. Tarn is a mountain lake.

2 other hills round.

4

verge, edge.

Dark green was that spot 'mid the brown mountain heather,
Where the Pilgrim of Nature lay stretch'd in decay,
Like the corpse of an outcast abandon'd to weather
Till the mountain-winds wasted the tenantless clay.
Nor yet quite deserted, though lonely extended,"
For, faithful in death, his mute favourite attended,
The much-loved remains of her master defended,
And chased the hill-fox and the raven away.

How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber?
When the wind waved his garment, how oft didst thou start?
How many long days and long weeks didst thou number,
Ere he faded before thee, the friend of thy heart?
And, oh! was it meet, that-no requiem" read o'er him---
No mother to weep, and no friend to deplore him,
And thou, little guardian, alone stretch'd before him-
Unhonour'd, the Pilgrim from life should depart?

When a Prince to the fate of the Peasant has yielded,
The tapestry waves dark round the dim-lighted hall;
With scutcheons" of silver the coffin is shielded,

And pages stand mute by the canopied pall:10

Through the courts, at deep midnight, the torches are gleaming;
In the proudly-arch'd chapel the banners are beaming ;
Far adown the long aisle sacred music is streaming,
Lamenting a Chief of the People should fall.

But meeter for thee, gentle lover of Nature,

To lay down thy head like the meek mountain lamb, When, wilder'd," he drops from some cliff huge in stature, And draws his last sob by the side of his dam.

5 extended, stretched out. 6 mute, dumb.

requiem, a service read or sung for the repose of the dead.

8 tapestry, embroidered hanging, used to cover walls.

9scutcheons, shields.

10 canopied pall, the velvet covering over the coffin, which lies beneath a

canopy, or roof, of state.

11 wilder'd, lost.