They 've ta'en a weapon long and sharp, And cut him by the knee; Then tied him fast upon a cart, They laid him down upon his back, They filled up a darksome pit They laid him out upon the floor, They wasted o'er a scorching flame But a miller used him worst of all, For he crushed him 'tween two stones. And they have ta'en his very heart's blood, And still the more and more they drank D THE GREAT-GRANDFATHER. - Miss L nb. MOTHER'S grandfather lives still, His age is fourscore years and ten; Though years lie on him like a load, His great-grandchildren on his knee. When we our parents have displeased, He stands between us as a screen; By him our good deeds in the sun, Our bad ones in the shade, are seen. His love's a line that 's long drawn out, Yet lasteth firm unto the end; His heart is oak, yet unto us It like the gentlest reed can bend. A fighting soldier he has been, — Yet by his manners you would guess That he his whole long life had spent In scenes of country quietness. His talk is all of things long past, For modern facts no pleasure yield, Of the famed year of forty-five, Of William, and Culloden's field. The deeds of this eventful age, Which princes from their thrones have hurled, Can no more interest wake in him Than stories of another world. When I his length of days revolve, How like a strong tree he hath stood, Those patriarchs old before the flood. THE WIND IN A FROLIC. — William Howitt THE wind one morning sprang up from sleep, I'll make a commotion in every place!" So it swept with a bustle right through a great town, Then away to the fields it went blustering and humming, And the cattle all wondered whatever was coming. They all turned their backs and stood silently mute. Puffing the birds, as they sat on the spray, Of the beggar, and flutter his dirty rags. "T was so bold that it feared not to play its joke And it made them bow without more ado, Or it cracked their great branches through and through. Then it rushed like a monster o'er cottage and farm, Striking their inmates with sudden alarm; And they ran out like bees in a midsummer swarm. There were dames with their kerchiefs tied over their caps, To see if their poultry were free from mishaps; But the wind had passed on, and had met in a lane With a schoolboy, who panted and struggled in vain, For it tossed him, and twirled him, then passed, and he stood With his hat in a pool, and his shoe in the mud. THE NORTHERN SEAS.-William Howitt. UP! up! let us a voyage take; Why sit we here at ease? Bund for the Northern Seas. I long to see the Northern Lights, I long to see those icebergs vast, I long to hear the thundering crash And the echoes from a thousand cliffs, There shall we see the fierce white bear, And the spouting whales that to and fro There may we tread on depths of ice, And while the unsetting sun shines on Through the still heaven's deep blue, We'll traverse the azure waves, the herds Of the dread sea-horse to view. We'll pass the shores of solemn pine, |