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"He who went in was there no more than I." "All that is true, but he has married been, And so on earth has suffered for all sin." "Married? "Tis well; for I have been married twice!"
"Begone! We'll have no fools in Paradise.
THE FOOL'S PRAYER.
THE royal feast was done; the King
The jester doffed his cap and bells,
And stood the mocking court before; They could not see the bitter smile
Behind the painted grin he wore.
He bowed his head, and bent his knee
"No pity, Lord, could change the heart
""Tis not by guilt the onward sweep Of truth and right, O Lord, we stay; 'Tis by our follies that so long
We hold the earth from heaven away.
"These clumsy feet, still in the mire,
Go crushing blossoms without end; These hard, well-meaning hands we thrust Among the heart-strings of a friend.
"The ill-timed truth we might have keptWho knows how sharp it pierced and stung! The word we had not sense to say
Who knows how grandly it had rung!
"Our faults no tenderness should ask,
The chastening stripes must cleanse them all; But for our blunders-oh, in shame Before the eyes of heaven we fall.
"Earth bears no balsam for mistakes;
Men crown the knave, and scourge the tool That did his will; but Thou, O Lord, Be merciful to me, a fool!"
The room was hushed; in silence rose
Ed. R. Sill.
THE BIRD AND THE BABY.
What does little baby say
THE WIND AND THE MOON.
SAID the Wind to the Moon, "I will blow you out;
In the air
Like a ghost in a chair,
Always looking what I am about
I hate to be watched; I'll blow you out."
The Wind blew hard, and out went the Moon,
On a heap
Of cloudless sleep,
Down lay the Wind, and slumbered soon,
He turned in his bed; she was there again!
In the sky,
With her ghost eye,
The Moon shone white and alive and plain;
The Wind blew hard, and the Moon grew dim: "With my sledge, And my wedge,
I have knocked off her edge!
If only I blow right fierce and grim,
The creature will soon be dimmer than dim."
He blew and he blew, and she thinned to a thread; "One puff More's enough
To blow her to snuff!
One good puff more where the last was bred,
He blew a great blast, and the thread was gone
Was a moonbeam bare;
Far off and harmless the sky stars shone-
The Wind he took to his revels once more;
Like a merry-mad clown,
He leaped and halloed with whistle and roar: "What's that?" The glimmering thread once more!
He flew in a rage—he danced and blew;
But in vain
Was the pain
Of his bursting brain;
For still broader the moon-scrap grew,
The broader he swelled his big cheeks and blew.
Slowly she grew-till she filled the night,
On her throne
In the sky alone,
A matchless, wonderful, silvery light,