13. THE CHAMELEON.

FT has it been my lot to mark

A proud, conceited, talking spark, With eyes that hardly serv'd at most To guard their master 'gainst a post; Yet round the world the blade had been To see whatever could be seen; Returning from his finish'd tour, Grown ten times perter than before. Whatever words chance to drop,

you

The travell'd fool your mouth will stop-
"Sir, if my judgment you'll allow,
I've seen, and sure I ought to know."
So begs you'll pay a due submission,
And acquiesce in his decision.

Two travellers of such a cast,
As o'er Arabian wilds they pass'd,
And on their way, in friendly chat,
Now talk'd of this, and then of that, -
Discoursed awhile, 'mongst other matter,
Of the Chameleon's form and nature.
"A stranger animal," cries one,
"Sure never lived beneath the sun!
A lizard's body, lean and long,
A fish's head, a serpent's tongue,
Its foot with tripled claw disjoin'd;
And what a length of tail behind!
How slow its pace! and then its hue.
Who ever saw so fine a blue!"

"Hold there!" the other quick replies, I saw it with these eyes,

"'Tis green

As late with open mouth it lay,
And warm'd it in the sunny ray;
Stretch'd at its ease, the beast I view'd,
And saw it eat the air for food."
"I've seen it, sir, as well as you,
And must again affirm it blue;
At leisure I the beast survey'd,
Extended in the cooling shade."

"'Tis green, 'tis green, sir, I assure ye.” "Green!" cries the other in a fury;

"Why, sir- d'ye think I've lost my eyes?" ""Twere no great loss," the friend replies. "For, if they always serve you thus, You'll find 'em but of little use!" So high at last the contest rose, From words they almost came to blows; When luckily came by a third: To him the question they referr'd; And begged he'd tell 'em if he knew Whether the thing was green or blue.

66 Sirs," cries the umpire, cease your pother; The creature's neither one nor t'other.

I caught the animal last night,
And view'd it o'er by candle light;
I mark'd it well-'twas black as jet -
You stare-but, sirs, I've got it yet,
And can produce it." "Pray, sir, do:
I'll lay my life the thing is blue."
"And I'll be sworn, that when you've seen
The reptile, you'll pronounce him green."

"Well then, at once to end the doubt,' Replies the man, "I'll turn him out; And when before your eyes I've set him, If you don't find him black, I'll eat him." He said; then full before their sight Produced the beast, and lo!—'twas white! Both stared-the man look'd wondrous wise"My children," the Chameleon cried, (Then first the creature found a tongue,) "You all are right, and all are wrong! When next you speak of what you view, Think others see, as well as you: Nor wonder if you find that none Prefer your eye-sight to their own!"

MERRICK.

G

14. THE USE OF FLOWERS.

OD might have bade the earth bring forth
Enough for great and small,

The oak-tree and the cedar-tree,
Without a flower at all.

We might have had enough, enough
For every want of ours,
For luxury, medicine, and toil,
And yet have had no flowers.

The ore within the mountain mine
Requireth none to grow;

Nor doth it need the lotus-flower

To make the river flow.

The clouds might give abundant rain,
The nightly dews might fall,

And the herb that keepeth life in man
Might yet have drunk them all.

Then wherefore, wherefore were they made,
All dyed with rainbow light,
All fashion'd with supremest grace,
Upspringing day and night,—
Springing in valleys green and low,
And on the mountains high,
And in the silent wilderness
Where no man passes by?

Our outward life requires them not;
Then wherefore had they birth?-
To minister delight to all,

To beautify the earth;

To comfort man, to whisper hope
Whene'er his faith is dim;

For who so careth for the flowers
Will much more care for him.

HOWITT.

15. THE SOLDIER'S DREAM.

UR bugles sang truce-for the night-cloud had lower'd,

OUR sent tel stars set their watch in the sky,

And thousands had sunk on the ground overpower'd,
The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die-
When, reposing that night on my pallet of straw,
By the wolf-scaring faggot that guarded the slain,
At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw,

And thrice ere the morning I dream'd it again.

Methought from the battle-field's dreadful array,
Far, far I had roam'd on a desolate track:
"Twas autumn-and sunshine arose on the way

To the home of my fathers, that welcomed me back.
I flew to the pleasant fields, traversed so oft

In life's morning march, when my bosom was young; I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft,

And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung. Then pledged we the wine-cup, and fondly I swore, From my home and my weeping friends never to part; My little ones kiss'd me a thousand times o'er,

66

And my wife sobb'd aloud in her fulness of heart

Stay, stay with us! rest! thou art weary and worn!" And fain was their war-broken soldier to stay;

But sorrow return'd with the dawning of morn,

And the voice in my dreaming ear-melted away!

CAMPBELL.

16. THE STORM.

MARK VI. 47-51.

EAR was within the tossing bark,

FEAR

When stormy winds grew loud;
And waves came rolling high and dark,
And the tall mast was bow'd.

And men stood breathless in their dread,
And baffled in their skill;

But One was there, who rose and said
To the wild sea, "Be still!"

And the wind ceased-it ceased-that word
Pass'd through the gloomy sky;

The troubled billows knew their Lord,

And sank beneath his eye.