THE SUNBEAM. Ar-cades', Arches formed by the trees. Lat'-tice, a small window. 1. THOU art no lingerer in monarch's hall, Sunbeam! what gift hath the world like thee? 2. Thou art walking the billows, and ocean smiles; Thou hast touched with glory his thousand isles; Thou hast lit up the ships and the feathery foam, And gladdened the sailor like words from home. 3. To the solemn depths of the forest shades Thou art streaming on their green arcades, Like fireflies glance to the pools below. 4. I looked on the mountains-a vapour lay 5. I looked on the peasant's lowly cot- And it laughed into beauty at that bright spell. 6. Sunbeam of summer! oh, what is like thee? Hope of the wilderness, joy of the sea! One thing is like thee to mortals given The faith touching all things with hues of Heaven! Grat-i-fi-ca'-tion, delight. 60 wonder my master calls me sensible," said Drover, who began to be proud of himself; "he told the farmer yesterday he wouldn't part with me at any price, and I'm sure he wouldn't. Well! I've earned my character; for, as he says, I'm never idling when my work is ready; I never was caught worrying a sheep, as old Growler did when he got into a passion. I never thieve, if I'm kept ever so long without breakfast. No; no one can touch my character; I have that to reflect on, and it gives my meal an extra relish to think I deserve it. Besides, I know my work so well. When did I ever miss finding a stray sheep? or when did I ever let a suspicious dog come near my coat and basket? Why, I know a rogue at a glance; and he must have more wit than most, who could take me in. Ha! ha! take me in, indeed!" and he diverted himself with the thought as he munched his breakfast. He was just preparing for his last bone-the largest and the best-when a slight noise made him look beside him, and there, outside the wicket, stood an ill-looking, half-starved mongrel, with a ragged ear and one eye. "It's the tinker's dog," muttered Drover, "a poaching thief, what does he want, staring at me, while I am eating?" But he could not order him off, as he was on the Queen's highway. However, it so spoilt his breakfast, that in as polite a tone as he could manage, he begged him to understand his behaviour was very unmannerly. 66 Ah, sir," said the tinker's dog, in a melancholy whine, "if you only knew what a pleasure it is to see you eat, you would not wish me to go." "Pooh, nonsense!" said Drover, "you won't make me believe you care to see any one eat but yourself." "That, naturally, is the highest gratification; but when it is out of the question, there is consolation in beholding the happiness of others," and the tinker's dog began to whimper. "Be off," said Drover; "you are a thief and a poacher, and you know it; you are half-starved, and you deserve it; and take my word for it, if you do live in spite of starvation, it will only be to be hanged at last.” "Oh, sir," said the tinker's dog, "how very discouraging; but the truth is, I came to you for a little advice, and, however severe you may be, I will thankfully listen. Pray go on sir, with that beautiful bone; I would not hinder you from it for a moment. I smelt it from the end of the lane." Drover was much mollified. "Advice, indeed! How long will you follow it?" he asked. 'Only try me, sir," said the tinker's dog, giving a sly look with his one eye at the bone. "Well, then, leave off your bad ways; that's my advice, and live honestly, and work." "Oh, sir, if I'm only so fortunate as to get over this fit of hunger, I'll quite surprise you," said the tinker's dog. "Give up fighting!" Ah, sir," he replied, shaking his ragged ear and turning his blind side to him, "see what fighting has done for me. "And poaching," said Drover. 66 Poaching!" was the answer; why I was out all last night and had a narrow escape of being shot. I lay close till the morning, and then, when my master found I came home with nothing, he nearly kicked my ribs in, and that's all I had for breakfast, isn't it time I was sick of poaching? If I could only get through this sad business, and have the countenance and advice of a respectable member of society like yourself, I should, as I said, surprise you. But as it is, I must go, after I have had the pleasure of seeing you finish a breakfast you have so richly deserved, and die in a ditch-an example of the folly of bad ways." "There!" said Drover, quite overcome, and standing away from his best bone, "you may have it." "Oh, impossible!" said the tinker's dog; wriggling through the fence, and seizing the bone, with his one eye fixed on Drover as full of admiring gratitude as it would hold. "You can be quick," said Drover, who was still hungry, and while he heard the tinker's dog eating -for he did not look at him-couldn't help wishing he had come for some advice when his breakfast was over. "Ah, sir," said he, with his mouth full of gristle, "you have saved my life; such a bone! believe me I shall never forget it." "Well, then," said Drover, "now let me tell you what I think of your way of life." "You have told me," said the tinker's dog, licking his lips and looking towards the fence. 'Well, but how to mend it?" said Drover, in some surprise at his altered tone. "You have mended it wonderfully with that bone," said the tinker's dog. "I am quite another thing;" and he made for the fence. "Ah, but you wanted some good advice," said Drover, discomposed. "Quite a mistake of yours," said the tinker's dog, who had now wriggled himself through. "I wanted some breakfast, and I knew very well the way to get it was to ask for some advice. Sensible |