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Draw tight your bow, my cunning man, Man tramples on his brother man,
But God is ever good.”
For, sure enough, the arrow went
As by an angel guided;-
The apple fell divided!
'Twas bravely done,” the ruler said,
“My plighted word I keep; Full fifty paces from his child,
'Twas bravely done by sire and son His cross-bow in his hand,
Go home and feed your sheep."
No thanks I give thee for thy boon,"
The peasant coldly said : Sure, full enough of pain and woe
To God alone my praise is due,
And duly shall be paid.
Yet know, proud man, thy fate was near:
Had I but missed my aim, The noble boy stood bravely up,
Not unavenged my child had died, His cheek unblanched with fear :
Thy parting hour the same! “Shoot straight,” he cried; "thine aim is sure,
For, see! a second shaft was here, It will not fail thee here."
If harm my boy befell :
Now go, and bless the heavenly powers Heaven bless thee now," the parent said, My first has sped so well."
Thy courage shames me quite;” Then to his ear the shaft he drew,
God helped the right, God spared the And watched its whizzing flight.
He brings the proud to shame; 'Tis done! 'tis done!—the child is safe !” He guards the weak against the strong, Shouted the multitude;
Praise to his holy name!
REV. J. H. GURNEY.
THE MOTHER PERISHING IN A SNOW STORM.
TAE cold winds swept the mountain's She stripped her mantle from her breast, height,
And bared her bosom to the storm, And pathless was the dreary wild; And round the child she wrapped the And 'mid the cheerless hours of night
vest, A mother wandered with her child:
And smiled to think her babe was warm. As through the drifting snow she pressed, With one cold kiss one tear she shed, The babe was sleeping on her breast. And sunk upon her snowy bed.
And colder still the winds did blow,
And darker hours of night came on,
At dawn a traveller passed by,
And saw her 'neath a snowy veil;
NEVER GIVE UP.
Never give up! it is wiser and better Never give up! for the wisest is boldest,
Always to hope than once to despair ! Knowing that Providence mingles the Fling off the load of Doubt's heavy fetter,
cup; And break the dark spell of tyrannical And of all maxims the best, as the oldest, Care.
Is the true watchword of Never give up! Never give up! or the burden may sink you;
Providence kindly has mingled the cup, Never give up! though the grapeshot may And in all trials or troubles, bethink you,
rattle, The watchword of life must be, Never Or the full thunder-cloud over you burst: give up!
Stand like a rock, and the storm or the
battle Never give up! there are chances and Little shall harm you, though doing the changes
worst. Helping the hopeful a hundred to one, Never give up! if adversity presses, And through the chaos High Wisdom Providence wisely has mingled the cup; arranges
And the best counsel in all your distresses, Ever success--if you'll only hope on. Is the stout watchword of Never give up!
CORONACH. He is gone on the mountain,
The autumn winds rushing, He is lost to the forest,
Waft the leaves that are searest, Like a summer-dried fountain,
But our flower was in flushing
When blighting was nearest.
Fleet foot on the correi,
Sage counsel in cumber, То
Red hand in the foray, t
Bow sound is the The
THE LITTLE BOY THAT DIED.
I went one night to my father's house-- Again I will go to my father's house,
Go home to the dear ones all,
And sadly the door of the hall : My mother came out to meet her son, I shall meet my mother, but never more
She kissed me, and then she sighed, With her darling by her side; And her head fell on my neck, and she wept But she'll kiss me, and sigh and weep For the little boy that died.
For the little boy that died.
I shall miss him when the flowers come And thought what a lovely child he had In the garden where he played; been,
I shall miss him more by the fireside, And how soon he must decay;
When the flowers have all decayed : “O Death ! thou lovest the beautiful,” I shall see his toys and his empty chair, In the woe of my spirit I cried;
And the horse he used to ride; For sparkled the eyes, and the forehead And they will speak with a silent speech, was fair,
of the little boy that died. Of the little boy that died.
J. D. ROBINSON.
THE BLIND DEAF-MUTE.
It seemed at first a mournful sight
That little room to me revealed :
Her lips in hopeless silence sealed.
Her tender frame by suffering wrung-
A heavy cross for one so young."
When once I saw, with glad surprise, How this meek lamb, so sorely bruised,
To the Good Shepherd raised her eyes. How patient on His breast she lay,
And kissed the hand of chastening love; And bless'd the dark and rugged way
That led her to His fold above!
Sweet child! so greatly tried and blest,
Thou soon wilt lay thy burden down; The rougher road, the happier rest;
The heavier cross, the brighter crown.
Shall everlasting light be given;
Will be thy Saviour's face in heaven.
Shall burst its bonds in sudden praise; Its first glad words will be the song (raise.
Which round the throne the ransomed
And in unclouded light to shine,-
REV. J. D. BURNS.
LITTLE SHOES AND STOCKINGS.
As the mother nurses,
From the world apart,
Leaning on the arrow
That has pierced her heart.
Head of flaxen ringlets;
Eyes of heaven's blue;
Parted mouth-a rosebud--
Pearls, just peeping througlı ;
Soft arms, softly twining
Round her neck at eve;
Little shoes and stockings,
These the dreams ye weavo.
Weave her yet another,
Of the world of bliss,-
Let the stricken mother
Turn away from this:
Bid her dream believing
Little feet await,
Watching for her passing
Through the pearly gate.
THE STAR AND THE CHILD.
A MAIDEN walked at eventide
Beside a clear and placid stream, And smiled, as in its depths she saw
A trembling star's reflected beam. She smiled until the beam was lost,
As 'cross the sky a cloud was driven; And then she sighed, and then forgot
The star was shining still in heaven.
A MOTHER sat beside life's stream,
Watching a dying child at dawn, And smiled, as from its eye she caught
A hope that it might still live on.
But watched for breath until the even;