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11. We were not long in using up all the other balls of darning cotton in that marvellous work-box; and such a reward as I found for my industry sure never was met with before or since.' Truly, it was a fairy box, and my needle the fairy's wand.
12. No less than ten fifty-pound notes were thus brought to light; and my father laughingly declared I had wrought my own dower' with my needle. No persuasions could induce him to appropriate the treasure; he said it was my “ reward,” and belonged to me alone. 1 AN-NŪ'I-T¥. A sum of money paid body, or that around which matter yearly.
is collected. 2 DE-VĪŞED'. Gave by a will.
6 POUND. A money of account used 3 KYNŞ'WOM-ẠN (-wûm-an). A female in England, equivalent to about relative.
four dollars and eighty-four cents. 4 LÉG'A-Cụ. A gift of money or goods 7 DÖWER. The portion or property by a will,
which a woman brings her hus5 NU'CLỆ-ys. The central part of al band in marriage ; dowry.
XXVII. - THE THREE MIGHTY.
NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. [The incidents on which these lines are founded is related in the twenty-third chapter of the Second Book of Samuel, and also in the eleventh chapter of the First Book of Chronicles.] 1. WATCHFIRES are blazing on hill and plain;
The noonday light is restored again;
2. The Philistine hath fixed his encampment here;
Afar stretch his lines of banner and spear,
And his war steeds neigh loud in their trappings' of pride 3. His tents are placed where the waters flow;
The sun hath dried up the springs below,
And Israel hath neither well nor pool,
4. In the cave of Adullam King David lies,
Overcome with the glare of the burning skies;
5. Though a crownéd king, in that painful hour,
One flowing cup might have bought his power.
6. But no cooling cup from river or spring,
To relieve his want, can his servants bring;
7. Then three of his warriors, “ the mighty three,"
The boast of the monarch's chivalry,
8. On their steeds they sprang, and with spurs of speed
Rushed forth in the strength of a noble deed.
9. To the right to the left - where their blue swords
10. Through a bloody gap in his shattered array,
To Bethlehem's well they have hewn their way;
Then backward they turn on the corse-covered plain,
11. The king looks at the cup, but the crystal draught,
At a price too high for his want, hath been bought;
12. But he pours it forth to Heaven's Majesty,
He pours it forth to the Lord of the sky;
13. Should he taste of a cup that his "mighty three”
Had obtained by their peril and jeopardy?
1 TRĂP'PINGŞ. Ornaments, especially | 3 CHỈv'ẠL-R¥. Body of knights or of
such as are used to decorate a brave and courteous warriors. horse.
| 4 BÚCK'LER. A kind of shield worn on 2 STĀTE. Persons forming the suite the left arm. or attendants of another.
5 JĚOP'AR-D¥. Danger.
XXVIII. — MARCO BOZZARIS.
(Fitz-Greene Halleck was born in Guilford, Connecticut, July, 1795. Marco Bozzaris (bot-săr'is or bot'sạ-ris), one of the most admired of his poems, was first published in 1827, in a small volume of poems, most of which had previously appeared in a fugitive form. 'Bozzaris was one of the martyrs in the cause of the independence of Greece. He fell in a night attack upon the cang of the Turks, August, 1823, near the site of the old battle-field of Platæa..]
1. At midnight, in his guarded tent,
The Turk was dreaming of the hour
Should tremble at his power:
In dreams his song of triumph heard;
As Eden's garden bird.
2. At midnight, in the forest shades,
Bozzaris ranged his Suliote 4 band,
Heroes in heart and hand.
On old Platæa's day;
As quick, as far, as they.
3. An hour passed on,- the Turk awoke;
That bright dream was his last; He woke, to hear his sentries shriek — “ To arms!— they come! - The Greek! the Greek !” He woke, to die midst flame and smoke, And shout, and groan, and sabre stroke,
And death-shots falling thick and fast
Bozzaris cheer his band -
God, and your native land !”
4. They fought, like brave men, long and well;
They piled the ground with Moslem slain:
Bleeding at every vein.
And the red field was won;
Like flowers at set of sun.
5. Come to the bridal chamber, Death!
Come to the mother's, when she feels
Come when the blesséd seals
With banquet song, and dance, and wino,
Of agony, are thine.
6. But to the hero, when his sword
Has won the battle for the free,
The thanks of millions yet to be.
Greece nurtured in her glory's timo,
Even in her own proud clime.