Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

At length one bright and beautiful morning the guns boomed across the bay, and a ship was seen coming into port. Down went the people to the Battery and Castle Garden. It was a British ship again, and their hearts seemed to die within them. But up she came, making a ridge of white foam before her, and you could hear a heavy sigh from that crowd, as if it were the last hope dying out. Men looked at one another blankly; by and by some one cried out, “She has passed her moorings, she is steaming up the river."

Then they wiped away the dimness of grief and watched the vessel. Round she came most gallantly, and as she passed the immense crowds on the wharves and at Castle Garden, the crew hoisted flags from trucks to mainchains. An officer leaped upon the paddle-box, put his trumpet to his lips, and cried out, "The Atlantic is safe. She has put into port for repairs!"

Then such a shout!

Oh, how they shouted! Shout! shout! shout! "The Atlantic is safe!"

Bands of music paraded the streets, telegraph wires worked all night long, “The Atlantic is safe,” bringing joy to millions of hearts; and yet not one in a hundred thousand of those who rejoiced had a friend or relative on board that steamer. It was sympathy with the sorrows of others, with whom they had no tie in common, save that which God created when he made of one blood all the nations of the earth, and permitted us, as brethren, to call him the common Father of us all.

WAIL OF A DISAPPOINTED CANDIDATE.

"Oh, ever thus from childhood's hour
I've seen my fondest hopes decay!"

I never had a dog, nor cow, or

Hen, that laid an egg a day,

But what was marked and tuck away!

I never raised a suckin' pig,

To glad me with its sunny eye,

But when it growed up fat and big,
Or fit to roast or bile or fry,

I couldn't find it in the sty!

THE FIRST SNOW-FALL.-J. R. Lowell

The snow had begun in the gloaming,
And busily all the night

Had been heaping field and highway
With a silence deep and white.
Every pine and fir and hemlock
Wore ermine too dear for an earl;
And the poorest twig on the elm-tree
Was ridged inch deep with pearl.

From sheds new roofed with Carrara
Came Chanticleer's muffled crow;
The stiff rails were softened to swan's-down;
And still fluttered down the snow.

I stood and watched by the window
The noiseless work of the sky,
And the sudden flurries of snow-birds,
Like brown leaves whirling by.

I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn,
Where a little headstone stood;
How the flakes were folding it gently,
As did robins the babes in the wood.

Up spoke our own little Mabel,

Saying, "Father, who makes it snow ?" And I told of the good All-father,

Who cares for us here below.

Again I looked at the snow-fall,
And thought of the leaden sky,
That arched o'er our first great sorrow,
When that mound was heaped so high.

I remembered the gradual patience
That fell from that cloud like snow,
Flake by flake, healing and hiding
The scar of our deep-plunged woe.

And again to the child I whispered,
"The snow that husheth all,—
Darling, the merciful Father
Alone can make it fall."

Then, with eyes that saw not, I kissed her;
And she, kissing back, could not know,

That my kiss was given to her sister,
Folded close under deepening snow.

THE UNNOTICED BOUND.

When, passing southward, I may cross the line
Between the Arctic and Atlantic oceans,
I may not tell-by any test of mine,

By any startling signs, or strange commotions
Across my track.

But if the days grow sweeter, one by one,

And e'en the icebergs melt their hardened faces; And sailors linger basking in the sun,

I know I must have made the change of places
Some distance back!

When, answering timidly the Master's call,
I passed the bourne of life in coming to Him;
When in my love for Him I gave up all-
The very moment when I thought I knew Him,
I cannot tell!

But as increasingly I feel His love

As this cold heart is melted to o'erflowing-
As now so dear the light comes from above,

I wonder at the change-and move on, knowing
That all is well.

LOSSES.-FRANCES BROWNE.*

Upon the white sea-sand
There sat a pilgrim band,

Telling the losses that their lives had known;
While evening waned away

From breezy cliff and bay,

And the strong tides went out with weary moan.

One spake with quivering lip,
Of a fair freighted ship,

With all his household to the deep gone down;
But one had wilder woe,-

For a fair face, long ago

Lost in the darker depths of a great town.

There were who mourned their youth
With a most loving ruth,

For its brave hopes and memories ever green;
And one upon the west

Turned an eye that would not rest,

For far-off hills whereon its joys had been.

*The blind poetess of Donegal.

Some talked of vanished gold;
Some of proud honors told;

Some spake of friends that were their trust no more;
And one of a green grave
Beside a foreign wave,

That made him sit so lonely on the shore.

But, when their tales were done,
There spake among them one,

A stranger, seeming from all sorrow free:
'Sad losses have ye met;

66

But mine is heavier yet;

For a believing heart hath gone from me
"Alas!" these pilgrims said,
"For the living and the dead,
For fortune's cruelty, for love's sure cross,
For the wrecks of land and sea,-
But, however it came to thee,
Thine, stranger, is life's last and heaviest loss."

[ocr errors]

THE "COURSE OF LOVE" TOO "SMOOTH."

She came tripping from the church-door, her face flushed by emotions awakened by the just uttered discourse, and eyes bright with loving expectation. He shivered on the curb-stone, where for an hour he had waited impatiently, with a burning heart fairly palpitating in his throat, and frozen fingers in his pockets. They linked arms and started for the residence of her parents. After a few moments' hesitating silence he said: "Jane, we have known each other long. You must know just how I feel. You must have seen that clear down at the bottom-O Moses!"

IIe had slipped down on the ice with so much force that his spine was driven up into his hat, and his hat was tipped over his nose, but she was a tender-hearted girl. She did not laugh, but she carefully helped him to his feet, and said: "You were saying, John, when you slipped, that the foundation-Oh, goodness!"

She slipped herself that time, and saw little stars come down to dance before her eyes, but he pulled her up in haste and went on

"Yes; just as I said, clean down at the bottom of my heart

is a fervent love, on which I build my hopes. That love has helped me stand and face-Thunder!"

He was down again, but scrambled up before she could stoop to help him, and she said breathlessly:

66

Yes, yes, John. You remember you just said, a love which helped you stand and face thunder. And that you founded your hopes on-This pesky ice!"

There she sat. John grasped the loose part of her sacque, between the shoulders, with one hand, and raised her to her feet, as one would lift a kitten from a pail of water by the back of the neck. Then he said, with increased earnestness:

"Of course, darling; and I have longed for an opportunity to tell my love, and to hear those sweet lips whisperWhoop!"

Somehow John's feet had slipped from under him, and he had come down like a capital V with his head and feet pointing skyward. She twined her taper fingers in his curling locks and raised him to the stature of a man, set his hat firmaly over his eyes with both hands, and cried, in breathless haste:

"I understand; and let me assure you, John, that if it is in my power to lighten your cares and make lighter your journey through life to-Jerusalem ?"

John stood alone, and said with breathless vehemence: "Oh, my precious! and thus shall it be my lifelong pleasure to lift you from the rude assaults of earth and surround you with the loving atmosphere of Texas!"

And there they both sat together. They had nearly reached the gate, and, hand in hand, and with hearts overflowing with the bliss of young love's first confession, they crept along on their knees up to the front steps, and were soon forgetful of their bumps on the softest cushion of the parlor sofa.

THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB.-BYRON.

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.

« AnteriorContinuar »