bed,

A sudden brightness in his look appeared; | For that she wrought, for that forsook her
A sudden vigour in his voice was heard;-
She had been reading in the book of prayer,
And led him forth, and placed him in his
chair.

Lively he seemed, and spoke of all he knew

Awake alike to duty and the dead;

She would have grieved had friends presumed to spare

The least assistance-'twas her proper care.

Here will she come, and on the grave will sit,

The friendly many, and the favourite few: Nor one that day did he to mind recall, But she has treasured, and she loves them all: When in her way she meets them, they And careless seem, for she would not be found;

appear

Folding her arms, in long abstracted fit;
But, if observer pass, will take her round,

Peculiar people-death has made them Then go again, and thus her hour employ, dear. While visions please her, and while woes destroy.

He named his friend, but then his hand she pressed,

And fondly whispered, "Thou must go to rest."

"I go," he said; but, as he spoke, she found His hand more cold, and fluttering was the sound!

Then gazed affrightened; but she caught a last,

A dying look of love, and all was past!

She placed a decent stone his grave above, Neatly engraved-an offering of her love;

Forbear, sweet maid! nor be by fancy led To hold mysterious converse with the dead; For sure at length thy thoughts, thy spirit's pain,

In this sad conflict, will disturb thy brain. All have their tasks and trials; thine are hard,

But short the time, and glorious the re-
ward:

Thy patient spirit to thy duties give;
Regard the dead, but to the living live.
CRABBE

EARLY LOVE FOR THE SEA.

I LOVED to walk where none had walked And call to memory-not by marks they before,

bare,

About the rocks that ran along the But by the thoughts that were created shore ;

Or far beyond the sight of man to stray, And take my pleasure when I lost my way:

For then 'twas mine to trace the hilly heath,

And all the mossy moor that lies beneath. Here had I favourite stations, where I stood

there.

Pleasant it was to see the sea-gulls strive
Against the storm, or in the ocean dive
With eager scream; or when they, droop-
ing, gave

Their closing wings to sail upon the wave:
Then, as the winds and waters raged around,
And breaking billows mixed their deafen-
ing sound,

And heard the murmurs of the ocean They on the rolling deep securely hung, flood,

And calmly rode the restless waves among.

With not a sound beside, except when Nor pleased it less around me to behold

flew

Aloft the lapwing or the gray curlew,

Who with wild notes my fancied power
defied,

And mocked the dreams of solitary pride.
I loved to stop at every creek and bay,
Made by the river in its winding way;

Far up the beach the yesty sea foam rolled; Or, from the shore upborne, to see on high

Its frothy flakes in wild confusion fly;
While the salt spray, that clashing billows
form,

Gave to the taste a feeling of the storm.
CRABBE

GEMS FROM SHAKSPEARE.

PRINCES have but their titles for their WHAT stronger breast-plate than a heart

THE BATTLE OF THE LEAGUE.

THE King is come to marshal us, all in his | Now, God be praised, the day is ours! armour drest, Mayenne hath turned his rein

And he has bound a snow-white plume D'Aumale hath cried for quarter-the upon his gallant crest.

He looked upon his people, and a tear was in his eye;

Flemish Count is slain.

Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay gale;

He looked upon the traitors, and his glance The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, was stern and high.

and flags, and cloven mail.

Right graciously he smiled on us, as rolled And then we thought on vengeance, and,

your brethren go.

For never saw I promise yet of such a Down, down with every foreigner! but let bloody fray, Press where ye see my white plume shine, Oh! was there ever such a knight, in friendamidst the ranks of war, ship or in war,

And be your Oriflamme to-day the helmet As our sovereign lord, King Henry, the of Navarre." soldier of Navarre'

Hurrah! the foes are coming. Hark to the Ho! maidens of Vienna; ho! matrons of mingled din Lucerne ; Of fife, and steed, and trump, and drum, Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those and roaring culverin! who never shall return.

The fiery Duke is pricking fast across Saint Ho! Philip, send, for charity, thy MexiAndre's plain, can pistoles, With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for and Almayne. Now by the lips of those we love, fair Ho! gallant nobles of the League, look gentlemen of France,

thy poor spearmen's souls.

that your arms be bright;

Charge for the Golden Lilies-upon them Ho! burghers of St. Genevieve, keep watch with the lance!

A thousand spurs are striking deep, a

thousand spears in rest,

and ward to-night:

For our God hath crushed the tyrant, our
God hath raised the slave,

A thousand knights are pressing close be- And mocked the counsel of the wise, and

drew near;

ONE gusty day, now stormy and now still, A gathering crowd from different streets
I stood apart upon the western hill,
And saw a race at sea:-A gun was heard, |
And two contending boats at length ap-
peared:

Equal a while; then one was left behind,
And for a moment had her chance resigned,
When in that moment, up a sail they
drew-

Not used before-their rivals to pursue.
Strong was the gale! in hurry now there

came

All

ask, all answer-none attend, none hear!

One boat is safe; and see! she backs her
sail

To save the sinking-Will her care avail?
Oh! how impatient on the sands we tread,
And the winds roaring, and the women
led,

As up and down they pace with frantic air, And scorn a comforter, and will despair: Men from the town, their thoughts, their They know not who in either boat is gone, fears the same. But think the father, husband, lover one.

And women, too! affrighted maids and And who is she apart? She dares not

wives,

All deeply feeling for their sailors' lives.
The strife continued: in a glass we saw
The desperate efforts, and we stood in awe,
When the last boat shot suddenly before,
Then filled, and sank-and could be seen
no more!

come

To join the crowd, yet cannot rest at home:

With what strong interest looks she at the waves,

Meeting and clashing o'er the seamen's graves!

Then were those piercing shrieks, that fran- 'Tis a poor girl betrothed-a few hours

tic flight

All hurried! all in tumult and affright!

more,

And he will be a corpse upon the shore.
CRABBE

THE GAMBLER'S WIFE.

DARK is the night.-How dark! No light! | "Yet I'll not curse him. No! "Tis all in vain! no fire! "Tis long to wait, but sure he'll come again!

Cold on the hearth the last faint sparks And I could starve, and bless him, but for

My heart must break! And thou!"-The O God! protect my child!"—The clock

"Hush! "Tis the dice-box! Yes, he's there They're gone! they're gone! the glimmering

The gambler came at last-but all was o'er; The wanton's smile--the villain-and the Dread silence reigned around. --The clock sot!