"Oh God! Lord William, dost thou know
How dreadful 'tis to die?

And canst thou without pity hear
A child's expiring cry?

"How terrible it is to sink

Beneath the chilly stream;

To stretch the powerless arms in vain-
In vain for help to scream!"

The shriek again was heard-it came
More deep, more piercing loud:
That instant o'er the flood the moon
Shone through a broken cloud;

And near them they beheld a child,
Upon a crag he stood-

A little crag-and all around

Was spread the rising flood.

The boatman plied the oar-the boat
Approach'd his resting-place-
The moon-beam shone upon the child,
And show'd how pale his face.

"Now reach thine hand!" the boatman cried : "Lord William, reach and save!"

The child stretch'd forth his little hands,
To grasp the hand he gave.

Then William shriek'd-the hand he touch'd

Was cold and damp and dead!

He felt young Edmund in his arms

A heavier weight than lead.

The boat sunk down-the murderer sunk
Beneath the avenging stream;

He rose, he scream'd—no human ear
Heard William's drowning scream.

JASPAR.

JASPAR was poor, and vice and want
Had made his heart like stone,
And Jaspar look'd with envious eyes
On riches not his own.

On plunder bent abroad he went
Towards the close of day;
And loitered on the lonely road,
Impatient for his prey.

No traveller came, he loiter'd long
And often look'd around,

And paus'd and listen'd eagerly
To catch some coming sound.

He sat him down beside the stream
That crossed the lonely way,

So fair a scene might well have charm'd
All evil thoughts away:

He sat beneath a willow tree,

That cast a trembling shade,

The gentle river full in front
A little island made,

Where pleasantly the moon-beam shone
Upon the poplar trees,

Whose shadow on the stream below
Play'd slowly to the breeze.

He listened and he heard the wind
That waved the willow tree,

He heard the waters flow along
And murmur quietly.

He listen'd for the traveller's tread,
The nightingale sung sweet,-
He started up, for now he heard
The sound of coming feet.

He started up and graspt a stake,
And waited for his prey;
There came a lonely traveller,
And Jaspar crost his way.

But Jaspar's threats and curses fail'd
The traveller to appal,

He would not lightly yield the purse
That held his little all.

Awhile he struggled, but he strove
With Jaspar's strength in vain ;
Beneath his blows he fell and groan'd,
And never spoke again.

He lifted up the murdered man,
And plunged him in the flood;
And in the running water then

He cleansed his hands from blood.

The waters closed around the corpse,
And cleansed his hands from gore,
The willow waved, the stream flowed on
And murmured as before.

There was no human eye had seen
The blood the murderer spilt,
And Jaspar's conscience never knew
The avenging goad of guilt.

And soon the ruffian had consum'd
The gold he gain'd so ill,

nd years of secret guilt pass'd on,
And he was needy still.

One eve beside the alehouse fire
He sat, as it befell,

When in there came a labouring man
Whom Jaspar knew full well.

He sat him down by Jaspar's side,
A melancholy man,

For spite of honest toil, the world
Went hard with Jonathan.

His toil a little earn'd, and he
With little was content;
But sickness on his wife had fallen,
And all he had was spent.

Then with his wife and little ones
He shared the scanty meal,
And saw their looks of wretchedness,
And felt what wretches feel.

That very morn the landlord's power
Had seized the little left,

And now the sufferer found himself
Of every thing bereft.

He leant his head upon his hand,

His elbow on his knee,

And so by Jaspar's side he sat
And not a word said he.

"Nay-why so downcast?" Jaspar cried, "Come-cheer up, Jonathan!

Drink, neighbour, drink! 'twill warm thy heart,-
Come, come! take courage, man!"

He took the cup that Jaspar gave,
And down he drain'd it quick;

"I have a wife," said Jonathan,
And she is deadly sick.

"She has no bed to lie upon,

I saw them take her bed :-
And I have children-would to God
That they and I were dead!

"Our landlord he goes home to-night,
And he will sleep in peace-
I would that I were in my grave,
For there all troubles cease.

"In vain I pray'd him to forbear,
Though wealth enough has he!
God be to him as merciless
As he has been to me!"

When Jaspar saw the poor man's soul On all his ills intent,

He plied him with the heartening cup, And with him forth he went.

"This landlord on his homeward road
'Twere easy now to meet.
The road is lonesome, Jonathan!-
And vengeance, man! is sweet.”

He listen'd to the tempter's voice,
The thought it made him start ;
His head was hot, and wretchedness
Had hardened now his heart.

Along the lonely road they went,
And waited for their prey ;
They sat them down beside the stream
That crossed the lonely way.

They sat them down beside the stream,
And never a word they said;

They sat and listen'd silently

To hear the traveller's tread.