Cover the embers,

And put out the light; Toil comes with the morning, And rest with the night.

Dark

grow the windows,

And quench'd is the fire;
Sound fades into silence,
All footsteps retire.

No voice in the chambers,
No sound in the hall;
Sleep and oblivion
Reign over all.

The book is completed,

And closed like the day;

And the hand that has written it

Lays it away.

Dim grow its fancies,
Forgotten they lie;
Like coals in the ashes
They darken and die.

Song sinks into silence,
The story is told,

The windows are darkened,

The hearth-stone is cold.

Darker and darker

The black shadows fall;

Sleep and oblivion

Reign over all.

THE YOUNG MOUSE.

In a crack near the cupboard, with dainties pro

vided,

A certain young mouse with her mother resided. So securely they lived in that snug quiet spot, Any mouse in the land might have envied their lot.

But one day, the young mouse, who was given to

roam,

Having made an excursion some way from her

home,

On a sudden return'd, with such joy in her eyes, That her gray, sedate parent express'd some sur

prise.

"O mother," said she, "the good folks of this house, I'm convinced, have not any ill-will to a mouse; And those tales can't be true you always are tell

ing,

For they've been at such pains to construct us a

dwelling.

The floor is of wood and the walls are of wires,
Exactly the size that one's comfort requires;
And I'm sure that there we should have nothing
to fear,

If ten cats, with their kittens, at once should ap

pear.

And then they have made such nice holes in the

wall,

One could slip in and out with no trouble at all; But forcing one through such rough crannies as

these

Always gives one's poor ribs a most terrible

squeeze.

F

But the best of all is, they've provided us well With a large piece of cheese of most exquisite smell;

'Twas so nice, I had put in my head to go through, When I thought it my duty to come and fetch you."

"Ah, child," said her mother, "believe, I entreat, Both the cage and the cheese are a terrible cheat; Do not think all that trouble they took for our

good:

They would catch us and kill us all there, if they

could,

As they've caught and kill'd scores; and I never could learn

That a mouse, who once enter'd, did ever return." Let the young people mind what the old people say, And when danger is near them, keep out of the

way.

CASABIANCA.

At the battle of the Nile, Casabianca, a boy of thirteen years old, son to the French admiral, remained at his post in the ship L'Orient after it had taken fire; and the gallant youth perished in the explosion of the vessel, when the flames had reached the powder.

THE boy stood on the burning deck,
Whence all but him had fled;
The flame that lit the battle's wreck
Shone round him o'er the dead:
Yet beautiful and bright he stood,
As born to rule the storm;
A creature of heroic blood,
A proud though childlike form.

The flames roll'd on-he would not go
Without his father's word;
That father, faint in death below,
His voice no longer heard.
He call'd aloud, "Say, father, say,
If yet my task is done?"

He knew not that the chieftain lay
Unconscious of his son.

"Speak, father!" once again he cried,
"If I may yet be gone:
And-" but the booming shots replied,
And fast the flames roll'd on.
Upon his brow he felt their breath,
And in his waving hair;

And look'd from that lone post of death

In still yet brave despair.

And shouted but once more aloud,

"My father, must I stay?"

While o'er him fast through sail and shroud The wreathing fires made way.

They wrapt the ship in splendour wild,

They caught the flag on high;

And stream'd above the gallant child
Like banners in the sky.

Then came a burst of thunder sound:
The boy-0, where was he?
Ask of the winds, that far around
With fragments strew'd the sea,-
With mast and helm and pennon fair,
That well had borne their part;
But the noblest thing that perish'd there
Was that young faithful heart.

Mrs. Hemans.

THE WOLF AND THE DOG.

A PROWLING Wolf, whose shaggy skin (So strict the watch of dogs had been) Hid little but his bones,

Once met a mastiff dog astray;
A prouder, fatter, sleeker Tray

No human mortal owns.

And now in civil conversation
The wolf express'd his admiration
Of Tray's fine case. Said Tray, politely,
"Yourself, good sir, may be as sightly:
Quit but the woods, advised by me;
For all your fellows here, I see,
Are shabby wretches, lean and gaunt,
Belike to die of haggard want: