Two children stood at their father's gate, Two girls with golden hair;

And their eyes were bright, and their voices Because the morn was fair. [glad,

For they said, "We will take that long, long walk

To the hawthorn copse to-day;

And gather great bunches of lovely flowers From off the scented May;

And oh! we shall be so happy there, "Twill be sorrow to come away!"

As the children spoke, a little cloud

Passed slowly across the sky;
And one looked up in her sister's face
With a tear-drop in her eye.

But the other said, "Oh! heed it not;
"Tis far too fair to rain;

That little cloud may search the sky
For other clouds, in vain."

And soon the children's voices rose
In merriment again.

But ere the morning hours had waned
The sky had changed its hue,
And that one cloud had chased away
The whole great heaven of blue.
The rain fell down in heavy drops,

The wind began to blow,

And the children, in their nice warm room, Went fretting to and fro;

For they said, "When we have aught in It always happens so!"

[store,

Now these two fair-haired sisters
Had a brother out at sea;
A little midshipman, aboard
The gallant "Victory;"
And on that self-same morning,

When they stood beside the gate,
His ship was wrecked! and on a raft
He stood all desolate,

With the other sailors round him,
Prepared to meet their fate.

Beyond, they saw the cool green land—
The land with her waving trees,
And her little brooks, that rise and fall
Like butterflies to the breeze:

But above them the burning noontide sun
With scorching stillness shone;
Their throats were parched with bitter
thirst,

And they knelt down one by one,
And prayed to God for a drop of rain
And a gale to waft them on.

And then that little cloud was sent,
That shower in mercy given!
And as a bird before the breeze,

Their bark was landward driven.
And some few mornings after,
When the children met once more,
And their brother told the story,
They knew it was the hour
When they had wished for sunshine,
And God had sent the shower!

ANON.

Он, weep no more, sweet mother!
Oh, weep no more to-night!
And only watch the sea, mother,
Beneath the morning light.

Then the bright blue sky is joyful,
And the bright blue sky is clear;
And I can see, sweet mother,
To kiss away your tear.

But now the wind goes wailing

O'er the dark and trackless deep; And I know your grief, sweet mother,

Though I only hear you weep.

My father's ship will come, mother,
In safety o'er the main;

When the grapes are dyed with purple He will be back again.

The vines were but in blossom

When he bade me watch them grow; And now the large leaves, mother, Conceal their crimson glow.

He'll bring us shells and sea-weed,
And birds of shining wing;
But what are these, dear mother?--
It is himself he'll bring.

I'll watch with thee, sweet mother,

But the stars fade from my sight; Come, come and sleep, dear mother-Oh, weep no more to-night! L. E. LANDON.