He cries and is gone; but they know the worst-
The treacherous Williamsburg dam has burst!
The basin that nourished their happy homes
Is changed to a demon-It comes! it comes!
A monster in aspect, with shaggy front
Of shattered dwellings to take the brunt
Of the dwellings they shatter,-white-maned and hoarse,
The merciless terror fills the course
Of the narrow valley, and rushing raves,
With death on the first of its hissing waves,
Till cottage and street and crowded mill
Are crumbled and crushed. But onward still,
In front of the roaring flood is heard
The galloping horse and the warning word.
Thank God, that the brave man's life is spared!
From Williamsburg town he nobly dared
To race with the flood and to take the road
In front of the terrible swath it mowed.
For miles it thundered and crashed behind,
But he looked ahead with a steadfast mind:
"They must be warned!" was all he said,
As away on his terrible ride he sped.
When heroes are called for, bring the crown
To this Yankee rider; send him down
On the stream of time with the Cur'.ius old:
His deed, as the Roman's was brave and bold.
And the tale can as noble a thrill awake,
For he offered his life for the people's sake.
[From "Legal Lyrics," a Scottish book published for private distribution. Employ a slight accent, and strongly bring out the points of humor.]
I gaed to spend a week in Fife
An unco week it proved to be-
For there I met a waesome wife
'Lamentin' her viduity.
Her grief brak out sae fierce and fell,
I thought her heart wad burst the shell;
And, I was sae left to mysel',—
I sell't her an annuity.
The bargain lookit fair eneugh
She just was turned o' saxty-three-
I couldna guessed she'd prove sae teugh,
By human ingenuity.
But years have come, and years have gane,
And there she's yet as stieve as stane-
The limmer's growin' young again,
Since she got her annuity.
She's crined' awa' to bane and skin,
But that, it seems, is nought to me;
She's like to live-although she's in
The last stage o' tenuity.
She munches wi' her wizen'd gums,
An' stumps about on legs o' thrums;
But comes-as sure as Christmas comes-
To ca' for her annuity.
I read the tables drawn wi' care
For an insurance company;
Her chance o' life was stated there,
Wi' perfect perspicuity.
But tables here or tables there,
She's lived ten years beyond her share,
An's like to live a dozen mair,
To ca' for her annuity.
Last Yule she had a fearfu' hoast,
I thought a kink might set me free-
I led her out, 'mang snaw and frost,
Wi' constant assiduity.
But de'il ma' care-the blast gaed by
And miss'd the auld anatomy-
It just cost me a tooth, forbye
Discharging her annuity.
If there's a sough o' cholera,
Or typhus,-wha sae gleg as she?
She buys up baths, an' drugs, an' a',
In siccan superfluity!
She doesna need-she's fever proof-
The pest walked o'er her very roof-
She tauld me sae-an' then her loof
Held out for her annuity.
Ae day she fell her arm she brak-
A compound fracture as could be-
Nae leech the cure wad undertak,
Whate'er was the gratuity.
It's cured! She handles't like a flail-
It does as weel in bits as hale-
But I'm a broken man mysel'
Wi' her and her annuity.
Her broozled flesh and broken banes
Are weel as flesh and banes can be;
She beats the toads that live in stanes,
An' fatten in vacuity!
They die when they're exposed to air-
They canna thole the atmosphere-
But her!-expose her onywhere-
She lives for her annuity.
If mortal means could nick her thread,
Sma' crime it wad appear to me-
Ca't murder-or ca't homicide-
I'd justify 't-an' do it tae.
But how to fell a withered wife
That's carved out o' the tree of life-
The timmer limmer dares the knife
To settle her annuity.
I'd try a shot-but whar's the mark?
Her vital parts are hid frae me;
Her backbone wanders through her sark
In an unkenn'd corkscrewity.
She's palsified-an' shakes her head
Sae fast about, ye scarce can see 't,
It's past the power o' steel or lead
To settle her annuity.
She might be drowned; but go she'll not Within a mile o' loch or sea;
Or hanged-if cord could grip a throat O' siccan exiguity.
It's fitter far to hang the rope
It draws out like a telescope;
'Twad tak' a dreadfu' length o' drop
To settle her annuity.
Will poison do it? It has been tried;
But, be 't in hash or fricasse,
That's just the dish she can't abide,
Whatever kind o' gout it hae.
It's needless to assail her doubts,
She gangs by instinct-like the brutes,—
An' only eats and drinks what suits
Heisel' and her annuity.
[Make a broad distinction between the description and the suppli. cation, and let the change in the last stanza be marked.]
See them go forth like the floods to the ocean,
Gathering might from each mountain and glen,—
Wider and deeper the tide of devotion
Rolls up to God from the bosoms of men:
Hear the great multitude, mingling in chorus,
Groan, as they gazed from their crimes to the sky :"Father! the midnight of death gathers o'er us,
When will the dawn of redemption draw nigh?"
"Look on us, wanderers, sinful and lowly,
Struggling with grief and temptation below;
Thine is the goodness o'er everything holy,―
Thine is the mercy to pity our woe,—
Thine is the power to cleanse and restore us,
Spotless and pure as the angels on high:-
Father! the midnight of death gathers o'er us,
When will the dawn of redemption draw nigh?"
Gray hair and golden youth, matron and maiden,
Lovers of mammon, and followers of fame,
All with the same solid burden are laden,
Lifting their souls to that one mighty name:-
"Wild is the pathway that surges before us,
On the broad waters the black shadows lie,—
Father! the midnight of death gathers o'er us,
When will the dawn of redemption draw nigh?"
Lo! the vast depths of futurity's ocean
Heave with Jehovah's mysterious breath;
Why should we shrink from the billows' commotion?
Jesus is walking the waters of death.
Angels are mingling with men in the chorus,-
Rising, like incense, from earth to the sky:
"Father! the billows grow brighter before us,
Heaven with its mansions eternal draws nigh."
[Saladin, the celebrated Sultan of Syria and Egypt, was a man of noble, generous disposition, which characteristic feature is finely brought out in this touching scene. He lived in the twelfth century.
Attendant-A stranger craves admittance to your Highness.
Saladin-Whence comes he?
Attendant-That I know not.
Enveloped with a vestment of strange form,
His countenance is hidden; but his step,
His lofty port, his voice in vain disguised,
Proclaim, if that I dare pronounce it,―
Saladin-Whom?
Attendant-Thy royal brother!
Saladin-Bring him instantly.
Now, with his specious, smooth, persuasive tongue,
Fraught with some wily subterfuge, he thinks
To dissipate my anger. He shall die!
[Enter attendant and Malek Adhel.]
Leave us together. [Exit attendant.] [Aside.] I should know
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