O, leap not on that fatal spot!

Death will thy rash presumption mock.
He springs - ah, hapless man! too late
Thy blinded eyes are made to see
(Forced open by relentless fate)

The agonies awaiting thee.

Above, high towering in the skies,

Those giant walls their summit heave; Below, in pitchy darkness, lies

A lone death bed, a gaping grave.
He scarce dare look for human aid:
To God he faithfully commends

That soul which God himself hath made
And formed for his eternal ends.

Hope never wearies, never fails : —

With death-like grasp the hunter clings;

He prays, his cruel lot bewails,

And east and west wild glances flings. His agile foot is firmly set;

Corpse-like he stands and motionless; One move upon that parapet

Might plunge him in the dark abyss.

Its scorching beams the journeying sun
Darts down into the deep ravine,
Heaping a thousand tortures on,
But not a ray of hope divine.
The hunter shouts; the rocks resound
His voice in empty mockery;
He sees the startled chamois bound,
He hears the avalanche reply: -

"Thou tyrant, Death, who long hast sought And tracked me on my daily path,

And thinkest Fate at length has brought
A victim to thine envious wrath.
Still undismayed I'll stand, and dare

To hang on hope, whilst yet I may;
Great Heaven, vouchsafe my strength to spare
Through the dark terrors of to-day!

"For well I know, if, unsubdued
By frost and hunger, still I live,
My Hans will seek this solitude,
And give the aid the brave can give.
Yet, fool! why hop'st thou to remain
Till morn, returning, greet thy sight?
What strength, what courage shalt thou gain,
To nerve thee through the livelong night?"

LXIX. THE SAME SUBJECT, CONCLUDED.

THE sun through rising mists the while

*

Gray Freiberg's slaty summits fires,
On Tödi throws one golden smile,

Then, sinking to the vale, expires.
Now gloomy darkness moves abroad;
Black lowering clouds are gathering in ;
Bravely they bear their thunder-load,

Fringed by the pale moon's glimmering.

*Freiberg is a mountainous range in the canton of Glarus. Todi, or Dödi, is a lofty peak in the same canton. They are about fourteen miles apart.

With lurid glare the tempest breaks,
The rolling thunder cracks amain,
The glaciers clash, the mountain shakes,
The clouds let loose th' imprisoned rain.

"Thy wakened wrath is great, O Lord! Thine awful judgment who may face? And will not heavenly love afford

Some comfort from the source of grace? Ah, no! these lightnings flash despair; Unnerved I tremble in the storm; Thy fierce displeasure will not spare, But crush me like the abject worm."

Confounded by the maddening strife,
His courage fails, his fears increase;
He clings convulsively to life

He feels the tempest's fury cease: The clouds disperse in deep dark blue, The stars repose with mellowed light. His strength revives! Hope beams anew, And cheers him onward through the night.

Now on the death-pale glacier's brow

One roseate blush proclaims the morn; The fading stars, with fainter glow,

Bear witness that a day is born.

"And shall the light once more appear

And shall I once again be free? Great God, in mercy lend thine ear: Behold forgive-O, rescue me!

"Ere noon my grief may turn to joy, Or Hope departing toll my knell : Then fare ye well, my wife, my boy,

Ye dearest ties on earth, farewell!"

?

With stronger gripe he clasps the rock:
O, there is anguish in that groan!
With parchéd lips he stoops to suck
The rime from off the barren stone.

The sun's impatient chariot wheels
The clear expanse of heaven ascend;
His fevered brain tormented reels,
And longs for the approaching end.
His fingers scarce retain their grasp,

His breath grows thick, his blood runs cold; He cries with agonizing gasp,

"O God, I can no longer hold."

He staggers, tottering to his fall,
When, lo! a voice is echoed near;
And "Rudolph-- Rudolph " is the call
That strikes upon his startled ear.
Like the doomed criminal's reprieve,
His upturned eye distinctly scans
(O joy—too joyful to believe!)

The features of his faithful Hans.

Impatient action bars vain words

A rope is from the summit flung; New nerve awakened Hope affords ; Around his waist the cord is strung. The living freight suspended, swaysBehold it slowly, surely rise; O'erwhelmed with gratitude and praise, Safe by his faithful friend he lies.

"Guided by light from heaven I reached
This unknown region of despair;
But O, what terrors must have bleached,
In one short night, thy raven hair!”.
* Rime, hoar frost.

And Rudolph, shuddering as he spake,

66

My life I owe to God and thee;
Hans, this unerring weapon take;

The chase henceforth is o'er for me!"

He sinks exhausted on the ground;
Imagination warps his will;

And frenzied fancy holds him bound
On that drear promontory still.
.But Hans from out his simple store
The needed nourishment supplies;
The food, with recreative power,
His shattered spirit vivifies.

Now in free converse they repose,

When Rudolph springs upright: "Good luck!
See see-behind that Alpine rose

Unconscious feeds a stately buck.
Safe within reach of wind-sped ball,
Behold the royal prize remain;

Hans - Hans- that noble beast must fall;

Give me my rifle back again!"

LXX. ANECDOTE OF FRANKLIN'S BOYHOOD.

IN the year 1716, or about that period, a boy used to be seen in the streets of Boston who was known among his schoolfellows and playmates by the name of Ben Franklin. Ben was born in 1706; so that he was now about ten years old. His father, who had come over from England, was a soap boiler and tallow chandler, and resided in Milk Street, not far from the Old South Church.

Ben was a bright boy at his book, and even a brighter one when at play with his comrades. He had some remarkable