Said the Wind: "What a marvel of power am I? With my breath, Good faith, I blew her to death First blew her away right out of the sky- But the Moon she knew nothing about the affair; For high In the sky, With her one white eye, Motionless, miles above the air, She had never heard the great Wind blare. George Macdonald. THE PET LAMB. THE dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink; I heard a voice: it said, "Drink, pretty creature, drink!" And, looking o'er the hedge, before me I espied side. No other sheep were near; the lamb was all alone, And by a slender cord was tethered to a stone ; With one knee on the grass did the little maiden kneel, While to that mountain lamb she gave its evening meal. 66 Rest, little one," she said; "hast thou forgot the day When my father found thee first, in a place far awdy? Many flocks were on the hills, but thou wert owned by none, And thy mother from thy side forevermore was gone. "Thou know'st that twice a day I have brought thee in this can Fresh water from the brook, as clear as ever ran; And twice, too, in the day, when the ground is wet with dew, I bring thee draughts of milk-warm milk it is, and new. "Thy limbs will shortly be twice as stout as they are now; Then I'll yoke thee to my cart, like a pony in the plow: My playmate thou shalt be; and when the wind is cold, Our hearth shall be thy bed, our house shall be thy fold. "See, here thou need'st not fear the raven in the sky; Both night and day thou'rt safe-our cottage is hard by. Why bleat so after me? Why pull so at thy chain? Sleep, and at break of day I'll come to thee again." Wordsworth. AUCTIONING OFF THE BABY. WHAT am I offered for Baby? Who'll buy? who'll buy? who'll buy? What am I offered for Baby? "A shopful of sweets?" Ah, no! What am I offered for Baby? "A pile of gold ?" Ah, dear, Your gold is too hard and heavy To purchase my brightness here. Would the treasures of all the mountains, Far in the wonderful lands, Be worth the clinging and clasping Of these dear little peach-bloom hands? So, what am I offered for Baby? "A rope of diamonds?" Nay, If your brilliants were larger and brighter Than stars in the Milky Way, Would they ever be half so precious As the light of those lustrous eyes, Still full of the heavenly glory They brought from beyond the skies? Then, what am I offered for Baby? "A heart full of love and a kiss?" Your gold and gems and stuff, For what would we care, my dearies, PICTURES OF MEMORY. AMONG the beautiful pictures I once had a little brother, With eyes that were dark and deep; Light as the down of the thistle, But his feet on the hills grew weary, I made for my little brother Sweetly his pale arms folded My neck in a meek embrace, As the light of immortal beauty Silently covered his face; |