Uncle Dan'l's Apparition and Prayer...S. L. Clemens & C. D. Warner. X. 24 Yankee and the Dutchman's Dog, The........... ix. 74 100 CHOICE SELECTIONS No. 9. SINCERITY THE SOUL OF ELOQUENCE.-GOETHE. How shall we learn to sway the minds of men And, when you speak in earnest, do you need A search for words? Oh! these fine holiday phrases, These filigree ornaments, are good for nothing,- In vain you strive, in vain you study earnestly! By words which come not native from the heart! 7 CURFEW MUST NOT RING TO-NIGHT. England's sun was slowly setting o'er the hills so far away, Filling all the land with beauty at the close of one sad day; And the last rays kiss'd the forehead of a man and maiden fair, He with step so slow and weakened, she with sunny, floating hair; He with sad bowed head, and thoughtful, she with lips so cold and white, Struggling to keep back the murmur," Curfew must not ring to-night." "Sexton," Bessie's white lips faltered, pointing to the prison old, With its walls so dark and gloomy,-walls so dark, and damp, and cold, "I've a lover in that prison, doomed this very night to die, At the ringing of the Curfew, and no earthly help is nigh. Cromwell will not come till sunset," and her face grew strangely white, As she spoke in husky whispers, "Curfew must not ring tonight." "Bessie," calmly spoke the sexton-every word pierced her young heart Like a thousand gleaming arrows-like a deadly poisoned dart; "Long, long years I've rung the Curfew from that gloomy shadowed tower; Every evening, just at sunset, it has told the twilight hour; Wild her eyes and pale her features, stern and white her thoughtful brow, And within her heart's deep centre, Bessie made a solemn vow; She had listened while the judges read, without a tear or sigh, "At the ringing of the Curfew-Basil Underwood must die." And her breath came fast and faster, and her eyes grew large and bright One low murmur, scarcely spoken-"Curfew must not ring to-night!" She with light step bounded forward, sprang within the old church door, Left the old man coming slowly, paths he'd trod so oft before; |