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Comes he not forth more fresh and bright Some of these may be broken, and some may be From ocean's cooling caves ?

rotten ; Canst thou unmoved that deep world see, But if twenty for accident should be detached, That heaven of tranquil blue,

It will leave me just sixty sound eggs to be hatched. Where thine own face is beckoning thee

“Well, sixty sound eggs, Down to the eternal dew?

- no, sound chickens,

I mean : The waters purled, the waters swelled, - Of these some may die, - we'll suppose seventeen, They kissed his naked feet;

Seventeen ! not so many, - say ten at the most, His heart a nameless transport held,

Which will leave fifty chickens to boil or to roast. As if his love did greet.

“But then there's their barley : how much will She spake to him, she sang to him ; Then all with him was o'er,

they need ? Half drew she him, half sank he in,

Why, they take but one grain at a time when He sank to rise no more.

they feed, GOETHE. Translation of Charles T. BROOKS. So that 's a mere trifle ; now then, let us see,

Ata fair market price how much money there'll be.

“Six shillings a pair-five-four-three-and-six, THE NIGHTINGALE AND GLOW-WORM.

To prevent all mistakes, that low price I will fix ;

Now what willthat make? fifty chickens, I said, A NIGHTINGALE, that all day long Fifty times three-and-sixpence- I'll ask Brother Had cheered the village with his song,

Ned. Nor yet at eve his note suspended,

“0, but stop, — three-and-sixpence a pair I Nor yet when eventide was ended,

must sell 'em ; Began to feel — as well he might The keen demands of appetite ;

Well, a pair is a couple, - now then let us tell 'em;

A couple in fifty will go (my poor brain !) When, looking eagerly around,

Why, just a score times, and five pair will remain. He spied, far off, upon the ground, A something shining in the dark,

“Twenty-five pair of fowls now how tiresome And knew the glow-worm by his spark ;

it is So, stooping down from hawthorn top, That I can't reckon up so much money as this ! He thought to put him in his crop. Well, there's no use in trying, so let 's give a The worin, aware of his intent,

guess, Harangued him thus, quite eloquent, I'll say twenty pounds, and it can't be no less. “Did you admire my lamp," quoth he,

“Twenty pounds, I am certain, will buy me a cow, “As much as I your minstrelsy, You would abhor to do me wrong,

Thirty geese, and two turkeys, - eight pigs and As much as I to spoil your song ;

a sow;

Now if these turn out well, at the end of the year, For 't was the self-saine Power divine

I shall fill both my pockets with guineas, 't is Taught you to sing, and me to shine ;

clear." That you with music, I with light, Might beautify and cheer the night.”

Forgetting her burden, when this she had said, The songster heard his short oration, The maid superciliously tossed up her head ; And, warbling out his approbation, When, alas for her prospects ! her milk-pail Released him, as my story tells,

descended, And found a supper somewhere else.

And so all her schemes for the future were ended. WILLIAM COWPER.

This moral, I think, may be safely attached,

“Reckon not on your chickens before they are THE MILKMAID.


JEFFREYS TAYLOR. A MILKMAID, who poised a full pail on her head, Thus mused on her prospects in life, it is said : “Let me see, — I should think that this milk


[It is said that Belzoni, the traveller in Egypt, discovered a living One hundred good eggs, or fourscore, to be sure. toad in a temple which had been for ages buried in the sand.] “Well then,

stop a bit, - it must not be for. In a land for antiquities greatly renowned gotten,

A traveller had dug wide and deep under ground,

will procure

A temple for ages entombed, to disclose,
When, lo he disturbed, in its secret repose,
A toad, from whose journal it plainly appears
It had lodged in that mansion some thousands of

The roll which this reptile's long history records, A treat to the sage antiquarian affords:

The sense by obscure hieroglyphics concealed,
Deep learning at length, with long labor, revealed.
The first thousand years as a specimen take,
The dates are omitted for brevity's sake:
"Crawled forth from some rubbish, and winked
with one eye;

Half opened the other, but could not tell why;
Stretched out my left leg, as it felt rather queer,
Then drew all together and slept for a year.
Awakened, felt chilly, crept under a stone;
Was vastly contented with living alone.
One toe became wedged in the stone like a peg,
Could not get it away, had the cramp in my leg;
Began half to wish for a neighbor at hand
To loosen the stone, which was fast in the sand;
Pulled harder, then dozed, as I found 't was no

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In the pleasant moist shade of a strawberry-bed. There fine speckled creatures claimed kindred with


And others that hopped, most enchanting to see.
Here long I regaled with emotion extreme;
Awoke, - disconcerted to find it a dream;
Grew pensive, discovered that life is a load;
Began to get weary of being a toad;

Was fretful at first, and then shed a few tears." Here ends the account of the first thousand years.


It seems that life is all a void,

On selfish thoughts alone employed; That length of days is not a good, Unless their use be understood.



Down deep in a hollow, so damp and so cold, Where oaks are by ivy o'ergrown,

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Is heard by the toad in his spacious abode In the innermost heart of that ponderous stone, By the gray-haired moss and the lichen o'ergrown.

Down deep in that hollow the bees never


The shade is too black for a flower; And jewel-winged birds, with their musical hum, Never flash in the night of that bower; But the cold-blooded snake, in the edge of the brake,

Lies amid the rank grass half asleep, halfawake; And the ashen-white snail, with the slime in its trail,

Moves wearily on like a life's tedious tale, Yet disturbs not the toad in his spacious abode, In the innermost heart of that flinty old stone, By the gray-haired moss and the lichen o'ergrown.

Down deep in a hollow some wiseacres sit Like the toad in his cell in the stone; Around them in daylight the blind owlets flit, And their creeds are with ivy o'ergrown ;Their streams may go dry, and the wheels cease to ply,

And their glimpses be few of the sun and the sky, Still they hug to their breast every time-honored guest,

And slumber and doze in inglorious rest;
For no progress they find in the wide sphere of




And the world's standing still with all of their | Up flew the endowment, not weighing an ounce, kind;

And down, down the farthing-worth came with Contented to dwell deep down in the well,

a bounce. Or move like the snail in the crust of his shell,

Or live like the toad in his narrow abode, By further experiments (no matter how) With their souls closely wedged in a thick wall | He found that ten chariots weighed less than of stone,

one plough; By the gray weeds of prejudice rankly o'ergrown. A sword with gilt trapping rose up in the scale,

Though balanced by only a ten-penny nail ;
A shield and a helmet, a buckler and spear,

Weighed less than a widow's uncrystallized tear.

A lord and a lady went up at full sail, A MONK, when his rites sacerdotal were o'er,

When a bee chanced to light on the opposite scale; In the depth of his cell with his stone-covered floor, Ten doctors, ten lawyers, two courtiers, one earl, Resigning to thought his chimerical brain,

Ten counsellors' wigs, full of powder and curl, Once formed the contrivance we now shall explain; All heaped in one balance and swinging from But whether by magic's or alchemy's powers

thence, We know not ; indeed, 't is no business of ours.

Weighed less than a few grains of candorand sense;

A first-water diamond, with brilliants begirt, Perhaps it was only by patience and care, At last, that he brought his invention to bear.

Than one good potato just washed from the dirt; In youth 't was projected, but years stole away, One pearl to outweigh, — 't was THE PEARL OF

Yet not mountains of silver and gold could suffice And ere 't was complete he was wrinkled and gray; But success is secure, unless energy fails; And at length he produced THE PHILOSOPHER'S

Last of all, the whole world was bowled in at the

grate, “What were they ?" you ask. You shall pres. With the soul of a beggar to serve for a weight, ently see ;

When the former sprang up with so strong a reThese scales were not made to weigh sugar and tea.

buff O no; for such properties wondrous had they, That it made a vast rent and escaped at the roof! That qualities, feelings, and thoughts they could When balanced in air, it ascended on high, weigh,

And sailed up aloft, a balloon in the sky ; Together with articles small or immense, While the scale with the soul in't so mightily fell From mountains or planets to atoms of sense. That it jerked the philosopher out of his cell.

JANE TAYLOR Naught was there so bulky but there it would lay, And naught so ethereal but there it would stay, And naught so reluctant but in it must go :

THE CALIPH AND SATAN. All which some examples more clearly will show.

VERSIFIED FROM THOLUCK'S TRANSLATION OUT OF THE The first thing he weighed was the head of Voltaire, Which retained all the wit that hadever been there. In heavy sleep the Caliph lay, As a weight, he threw in a torn scrap of a leaf,

When some one called, “Arise, and pray !" Containing the prayer of the penitent thief ; When the skull rose aloft with so sudden a spell The angry Caliph cried, “Who dare That it bounced like a ball on the roof of the cell. Rebuke his king for slighted prayer ?


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One time he put in Alexander the Great, Then, from the corner of the room,
With the garment that Dorcas had made for a A voice cut sharply through the gloom :

And though clad in armor from sandals to crown, “My name is Satan. Rise ! obey
The hero rose up, and the garment went down. Mohammed's law; awake, and pray."
A long row of almshouses, amply endowed Thy words are good," the Caliph said,
By a well-esteemed Pharisee, busy and proud, But their intent I somewhat dread.
Next loaded one scale; while the other was pressed
By those mites the poor widow dropped into the For matters cannot well be worse

Than when the thief says, 'Guard your purse 1'

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For how can I thy words believe, When even God thou didst deceive !

I cannot trust your counsel, friend,
It surely hides some wicked end."
Said Satan, “Near the throne of God,
In ages past, we devils trod;
Angels of light, to us 't was given
To guide each wandering foot to heaven.

A sea of lies art thou, — our sin
Only a drop that sea within."
“Not so," said Satan, “I serve God,
His angel now, and now his rod.

Not wholly lost is that first love,
Nor those pure tastes we knew above.

Roaming across a continent,
The Tartar moves his shifting tent,

But never quite forgets the day When in his father's arms he lay ;

So we, once bathed in love divine, Recall the taste of that rich wine.

God's finger rested on my brow, That magic touch, I feel it now!

In tempting I both bless and curse,
Make good men better, bad men worse.
Good coin is mixed with bad, my brother,
I but distinguish one from the other."
“Granted,” the Caliph said, “but still
You never tempt to good, but ill.
Tell then the truth, for well I know
You come as my most deadly foe."
Loud laughed the fiend. “You know me well,
Therefore my purpose I will tell.
If you had missed your prayer, I knew
A swift repentance would ensue.
And such repentance would have been
A good, outweighing far the sin.
I chose this humbleness divine,
Borne out of fault, should not be thine,
Preferring prayers elate with pride
To sin with penitence allied."

J. F.C

I fell, 't is true — 0, ask not why, For still to God I turn my eye.

It was a chance by which I fell, Another takes me back from hell.

'T was but my envy of mankind, The envy of a loving mind.

Jealous of men, I could not bear
God's love with this new race to share.

But yet God's tables open stand,
His guests flock in from every land;

Some kind act toward the race of men May toss us into heaven again.


A game of chess is all we see,
And God the player, pieces we.
White, black - queen, pawn, - 't is all the same,
For on both sides he plays the game.


THE TEMPEST." Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air ; And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made of, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.


Moved to and fro, from good to ill, We rise and fall as suits his will."

The Caliph said, “If this be so,
I know not, but thy guile I know;


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