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"And if you please to see them now,
"Have done!" said I, "thou mariner old,
I looked up to the lady moon,
She was but like a glow-worm's spark; And never a star shone down to us,
Through the sky, so high and dark.
And we had no mast, we had no ropes,
And every sail was rent;
And the stores I brought from the charmed isle,
But the Nautilus was a patient thing,
And for thrice seven nights we sail'd and sail'd:
Where I built my bark, and my mother's house, 'Mong the green hills where it lay.
"Farewell!" said I to the Nautilus,
But I'll sail with thee no more."
ONCE, when I was a thoughtless child,
And a mariner sate by me;
And thus he spake:-"For seventy years
"Thou thinkest that the earth is fair,
Is glorious in thy sight.
"Thou callest yon poor butterfly
"Thou speak'st as if God only made
Yet I blame thee not, thou simple child!
"But the ocean-fields are free to all, Where'er they list to go,
With the heavens above, and round about,
"Oh! it gladdeneth much my very soul
"Up to the north,-the polar north,
To the land of the thawless snow.
"We were hemmed in by icy rocks,
"And a miracle as great was wrought
For us in the polar sea,
When the rocks were rent, from peak to base,
"Yet, amid those seas so wild and stern,
"Great kings have piled up pyramids,
"Its pillars are of the adamant,
By a thousand winters hew'd; Its priests are the awful silence,
And the ancient solitude!
"And then we sailed to the tropic seas,
"I have looked down to those ocean depths, Many thousand fathoms low,
And seen, like woods of mighty oak,
"The red, the green, and the beautiful
"Some, they were like the lily of June,
"And then the million creatures bright
That, sporting, went and came! Heaven knows, but I think in Paradise It must have been the same:
"When 'neath the trees that God had set,
"There are no wastes of burning sand,
There's neither heat nor cold;
"There, with the divers of the East,
Who down in those depths have been, I've conversed of the marvels strange, And the glories they had seen.
“And they say, each one, not halls of kings With the ocean-caves can vie,
With the untrod caves of the carbuncle,
"And well I wot it must be so:
The miser-treasures of the earth;
"Then I've cross'd the line full fifteen times, And down in the southern sea
I've seen the whales, like bounding lambs,
"Leap up, the creatures that God had made,
"But, my little child, thou sittest here,
Still gazing on yon stream,
And the wondrous things that I have told
"But to me they are as living thoughts,
More glorious than the land:
"For when at first the world awoke
Not on the land the Spirit of God
On the third day of creation,
Before mankind had birth,
Ten thousand thousand flowers sprang up,
From the rejoicing earth sprang up
And now, as then, ten thousand flowers
The red rose is the red rose still;
Ye flowers - ye little flowers
Heard how the mountains rang, When the sons of God did shout for joy, And the stars of morning rang!
Ye saw the creatures of the earth,
Go sporting o'er the plain!
Sprang, when the floods were dried, And the meek dove from out the ark Went wandering far and wide ;And when upon Mount Ararat
The floating ark was stayed, And the freshness of the flowering earth The Patriarch first surveyed,
Ye saw across the heavens
The new-made bended bow,-
Oh flowers! sweet, goodly flowers!
Fit emblems, were ye strewn!
For in their souls ye wrought,
But greater far than all
Our blessed Lord did see
OH! poverty is a weary thing, 't is full of grief and "Ay, though the children weep all day, and with pain, down-drooping head It boweth down the heart of man, and dulls his cun- Each does his small craft mournfully!- the hungry ning brain, must be fed ;
It maketh even the little child with heavy sighs And that which has a price to bring, must go, to buy complain!
The children of the rich man have not their bread to
They hardly know how labour is the penalty of sin;
And year by year, as life wears on, no wants have
In all the luxury of the earth they have abundant share;
They walk among life's pleasant ways, and never know a care.
The children of the poor man young, each one,
With love that hath no feignings false, unto each gentle thing!
Therefore most sorrowful it was those children small to see,
Most sorrowful to hear them plead for their pet so piteously;
though they be "Oh! mother dear, it loveth us; and what beside have we?
Early in the morning they rise up before the rising sun,
Few things have they to call their own, to fill their hearts with pride,
The sunshine of the summer's day, the flowers on the highway side,
"Let's take him to the broad, green hills," in his impotent despair,
Said one strong boy, "let's take him off, the hills are wide and fair;
I know a little hiding-place, and we will keep him there!"
Or their own free companionship, on the heathy com- "T was vain!--they took the little lamb, and straightmon wide.
Hunger, and cold, and weariness, these are a frightful three;
But another curse there is beside, that darkens poverty:
way tied him down,
With a strong cord they tied him fast;—and o'er the common brown,
And o'er the hot and flinty roads, they took him to the town.
It may not have one thing to love, how small soe'er The little children through that day, and throughout
A thousand flocks were on the hills- -a thousand flocks, and more,—
Feeding in sunshine pleasantly,—they were the rich
There was the while, one little lamb, beside a cottage Oh! poverty is a weary thing, 't is full of grief and
A little lamb that did lie down with the children It keepeth down the soul of man, as with an iron 'neath the tree;
That ate, meek creature, from their hands, and nes- It maketh even the little child, with heavy sighs tled to their knee;
I have hated none - -I have known no pride,―
Yet have sinned as few men beside:
I have bound myself by oath and spell,
To the faery people of field and fell,—
Can the church absolve such sins as these?"
But he raised himself and his words were slow:
I had knowledge of each herb and tree;
Till I knew them all, and at will could bring
And I heard the sound of their ceaseless feet;
Was cool on my cheek. and lifted my hair;-
And roaring waters, we journeyed by ;
But then there were frightful, creeping things,
I learned the songs of awful mirth,
A careless, joyful life I led,
Till thrice seven years, as a day, had sped ;
I laid me down on the Leeder brae.
He was lean, and crabbed, and old,
His voice was thick, and his prayers were cold,— He moved not my heart; then came there by A fair child, chasing a butterfly;
'Twas a lovely boy with his free light hair,
I blessed the child from my inmost heart,
Then she raised to heaven her thoughtful look,
Hour by hour I listened ;
And through thick woods, where the air was cold:
Day after day, as it seemed to me,
Still on she read, sedate and low,
And at every word I was wrung with woe;
And my human heart was shook with dread;
Down I knelt, and I strove to pray,
I have wrestled hard, I have fiercely striven
With thee, the dead are blest:- they have gone forth,
Thou knowest not whither, but to some fair home,
It matters not to thee, that angel-guest
Thou knowest that they are!
What marvel, then, that thou shouldest shed no tear,
Thyself with flowers, and thy bright beauty wear
Thou hast fought the fight-thou hast battled long-Oh! thou undoubting one, who from the tree
And the victor here is not the strong;
But the gates of heaven are opened wide,
Of life hast plucked and eaten, well mayst thou, Unknowing evil, walk in spirit free,
With thine unclouded brow!
Thy faith is knowledge, and without a fear
I will not doubt-like thee I will arise,
Then may I see the beautiful depart,
The fair flowers of my spring-time fade and die,
A STORY OF THE INDIAN WAR.
"I WAS at William Penn's country-house, called Pensbury, in Pennsylvania, where I staid some days. Much of my time I spent in seeing William Penn, and many of the chief men among the Indians, in council concerning their former covenant, now renewed on his going away for England. To pass by several particulars, I may mention the following: They never broke covenant with any people,' said one of their great chiefs; and, smiting his hand upon his head, he said, they made not their covenants there, but here,' said he, smiting on his breast three times.
"I, being walking in the woods, espied several wigwams, and drew towards them. The love of God filled my heart; and I felt it right to look for an interpreter, which I did. Then I signified that I was come from a far country with a message from the Great Spirit (as they call God,) and my message was to endeavour to persuade them that they should not be drunkards, nor steal, nor kill one another, nor fight, nor put away their wives for small faults; for