Just as methought it said, Come, bore me!' 2. THE DESERT. For mark! no sooner was I fairly found I might go on: nought else remained to do. Such starved ignoble nature; nothing throve : In some strange sort, were the land's portion. If there pushed any ragged thistlestalk "See Above its mates, the head was chopped-the bents Were jealous else. What made those holes and rents In the dock's harsh swarth leaves-bruised, as to balk All hope of greenness ? 'Tis a brute must walk Pashing their life out, with a brute's intents. As for the grass, it grew as scant as hair In leprosy; thus dry blades pricked the mud Which underneath iooked kneaded up with blood. One stiff blind horse, his every bone astare, Stood stupefied, however he came there: Thrust out, past service, from the devil's stud. He must be wicked to deserve such pain. CCCLXVIII. LOUISA MEREDITH AIRY APARTMENTS. Smooth, sound, and even as the huge trunks seem to careless eye; Fissures and knot-holes many nooks supply, Tempting to searchers after cosy homes. Intent on happy matrimonial scheme, The nimble softly-furred opossum comes, Scales the steep tower with quick and agile hands, And soon installs her in her bower of state; Tɔ give a notion of their wondrous tails; CCCLXIX. JAMES REYNOLDS WITHERS, 1812 SONG OF THE BUTTERFLY. I come from bowers of lilacs gay, And many a spray of willows gray I flutter by the river side, Where laves the swan his bosom I laugh to see the frugal bee For others hoard her treasure; From morn till night a toiler she, But mine's a life of pleasure. The truant schoolboy loves to chase I lure him on a merry race, O'er meadows white with daisies. He creeps and crawls with cat-like tread, And when the bee is in her cell, Whilst nightly damps are falling. There round my clean white-sheeted bed And nightingales, above my head, I dance, I play, make love, and sleep, CCCLXX. CHARLES MACKAY, 1812— 1. TUBAL-CAIN. Old Tubal-Cain was a man of might, In the days when earth was young; And he lifted high his brawny hand On the iron glowing clear, Till the sparks rushed out in scarlet showers, Hurra for the hand that shall wield them well, To Tubal-Cain came many a one, And each one prayed for a strong steel blade And he made them weapons sharp and strong, And gave him gifts of pearls and gold, And spoils of the forest free. And they sang : "Hurra for Tubal-Cain, Who hath given us strength anew! But a sudden change came o'er his heart And Tubal-Cain was filled with pain He saw that men, with rage Made war upon their kind, and hate, That the land was red with the blood they shed, In their lust for carnage blind. And he said, "Alas! that ever I made, Or that skill of mine should plan, The spear and the sword for men whose joy Is to slay their fellow-man!" And for many a day old Tubal-Cain Sat brooding o'er his woe; And his hand forbore to smite the ore, And bared his strong right arm for work, And the red sparks lit the air; "Not alone for the blade was the bright steel made;" And men, taught wisdom from the past, Hung the sword in the hall, the spear on the wall, And sang: "Hurra for Tubal-Cain! Our staunch good friend is he; And for the ploughshare and the plough To him our praise shall be. But while oppression lifts its head, Or a tyrant would be lord, Though we may thank him for the plough, We'll not forget the sword!" 2. ENGLAND. There's a land, a dear land, where the rights of the free England, wave-guarded and green to the shore! Glory be with her and peace evermore. There's a land, a dear land, where our vigour of soul |