But, if another gain your hand, The virgin heard, and thus replied: If my consent to be your bride Will make you happy, then be blest; And in return will give my hand." "A sacrifice! Oh speak its name! For you I'd forfeit wealth and fame; Take my whole fortune, every cent--" "Twas something more than wealth I meant Must I the realms of Neptune trace? Oh speak the word! Where'er the place— I'd e'en explore the frozen pole; "Oh, no, dear sir, I do not ask "Shall I, like Bonaparte, aspire Sir, these are trifles," she replied; "But, if you wish me for your bride, You must-but stili I fear to speak, You'll never grant the boon I seek." Oh say," he cried, “dear angel, say What must I do, and I obey; No longer rack me with suspense, Speak your commands, and send me hence." Well, then, dear generous youth!" she cries, "If thus my heart you really prize, And wish to link your fate with mine, On one condition I am thine; "Twill then become my pleasing duty, Cut those huge whiskers from your face!" She said-but oh! what strange surprise Like lightning from the ground he sprung, So looked Macbeth, whose guilty eye Cut off my whiskers! O ye gods! To win an empress to my arms, Though blest with more than mortal charms. And sought a less obdurate fair, To take the beau with all his hair. JOHN MAYNARD.-HORATIO ALGER, JR. 'Twas on Lake Erie's broad expanse One bright midsummer day, The gallant steamer Ocean Queen Swept proudly on her way. Bright faces clustered on the deck, Watched carelessly the feathery foam Ah, who beneath that cloudless sky, Could dream that ere an hour had sped Would sink beneath the lake's blue waves, A seaman sought the captain's side, The captain's swarthy face grew pale; Alas, too late! Though quick, and sharp, No human efforts could avail To quench th' insidious flame. The bad news quickly reached the deck, And ghastly faces everywhere Looked from the doomed ship. "Is there no hope, no chance of life?" A hundred lips implore; But one," the captain made reply, "To run the ship on shore." A sailor, whose heroic soul That hour should yet reveal, By name John Maynard, eastern-born, Stood calmly at the wheel. "Head her south-east!" the captain shouts, Above the smothered roar, "Head her south-east without delay! No terror pales the helmsman's cheek, As, in a sailor's measured tone, Three hundred souls, the steamer's freight, BB* While at the stern the dreaded flames John Maynard watched the nearing flames, He grasped the wheel, and steadfastly A voice from out the stifling smoke But half a mile! a hundred hands But half a mile! That distance sped But half a mile! Yet stay, the flames But gather round that helmsman bold, "John Maynard!" with an anxious voice "Stand by the wheel five minutes yet, And we shall reach the shore." Through flame and smoke that dauntless heart Responded firmly still, Unawed, though face to face with death, "With God's good help I will!" The flames approach with giant strides, His knee upon the stanchion pressed, One moment yet! one moment yet! In praise to God that he Hath saved them from the fearful fire, But where is he, that helmsman bold? His nerveless hands released their task, The wave received his lifeless corse, DEEDS VERSUS CREEDS.-ANNIE I. MUZZEY. Would meet and satisfy my every need. And one claimed Jesus was the son of God; One wooed me with the cooings of a dove. And whether souls were foreordained to bliss; Led up to heaven's gate, I could not tell. Amid this dust of theologic strife, I hungered with a want unsatisfied. Heaven while I lived, not heaven when I died, Was what I craved; and how to make sublime And beautiful my life, While yet I lingered on the shores of time. To judgment swift my guides in doctrine came; His own in other's claim, And put self last? I sought, but found him not; |