The Hermit.

Thus artists melt the sullen ore of lead,
With heaping coals of fire upon its head;
In the kind warmth the metal learns to glow,
And, loose from dross, the silver runs below.
Long had our pious friend in virtue trod,

But now the child half-wean'd his heart from God;
(Child of his age) for him he lived in pain,
And measured back his steps to earth again.
To what excesses had his dotage run!

But God, to save the father, took the son.
To all but thee in fits he seemed to go,
A 'twas my ministry to deal the blow.
The poor fond parent, humbled in the dust,
Now owns in tears the punishment was just.
But how had all his fortunes felt a wrack,
Had that false servant sped in safety back!
This night his treasured heaps he meant to steal,
And what a fund of charity would fail !
Thus Heaven instructs thy mind: this trial o'er,
Depart in peace, resign, and sin no more."

On sounding pinions here the youth withdrew;
The sage stood wondering as the seraph flew.
Thus looked Elisha, when, to mount on high,
His master took the chariot of the sky;
The fiery pomp ascending left the view;
The prophet gazed, and wished to follow too.

The bending hermit here a prayer begun,
"Lord, as in heaven, on earth Thy will be done."
Then, gladly turning, sought his ancient place,
And pass'd a life of piety and peace.

PARNELL.

The Glove.

And truly 'twas a gallant thing to see that crowning show,
Valour and love, and a king above, and the royal beasts below.

The lions and the tigers roar'd with horrid laughing jaws,

They bit, they glared, gave blows like beams, a wind went with their paws;
With wallowing might and stifled roar they roll'd on one another,
Till all the pit with sand and mane was in a thunderous smother;
The bloody foam above the bars came whisking through the air:
Said Francis then, "Faith, gentlemen, we're better here than there."

De Lorge's love o'erheard the king, a beauteous lively dame,

With smiling lips and sharp bright eyes, which always seem'd the same;

She thought," The Count, my lover, is brave as brave can be,

He surely would do wondrous things to show his love of me ;

King, ladies, lovers, all look on, the occasion is divine;

I'll drop my glove to prove his love; great glory will be mine."

She dropp'd her glove, to prove his love, then look'd at him, and smil'd;
He bow'd, and in a moment leap'd among the lions wild :

The leap was quick, return was quick, he has regain'd the place,

Then threw the glove, but not with love, right in the lady's face.

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Ah, ah!" said Francis, "rightly done!" and he rose from where he sat ;

"Not love," quoth he, "but vanity, set love a task like that."

рот

L. HUNT (after Schiller).