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RAIN IN SUMMER.

With more than their wonted noise

And commotion;

And down the wet streets

Sail their mimic fleets,

Till the treacherous pool

Engulfs them in its whirling

And turbulent ocean.

In the country on every side,

Where far and wide,

Like a leopard's tawny and spotted hide
Stretches the plain,

To the dry grass and the drier grain
How welcome is the rain!

In the furrowed land

The toilsome and patient oxen stand;
Lifting the yoke-encumbered head,
With their dilated nostrils spread,

They silently inhale

The clover-scented gale,

And the vapors that arise

From the well-watered and smoking soil.

For this rest in the furrow after toil

Their large and lustrous eyes

Seem to thank the Lord,

More than man's spoken word.

Near at hand,

From under the sheltering trees,

The farmer sees

His pastures and his fields of grain,

ABOU BEN ADHEM AND THE ANGEL. 301

As they bend their tops

To the numberless beating drops

Of the incessant rain.

He counts it as no sin

That he sees therein

Only his own thrift and gain.

ABOU BEN ADHEM AND THE ANGEL.

LEIGH HUNT.

ABOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold:

Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the Presence in the room he said,

"What writest thou?" The vision raised its head, And, with a look made of all sweet accord,

Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord." "And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so," Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,

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But cheerly still; and said, I pray thee, then,

Write me as one that loves his fellow-men."

The Angel wrote and vanished. The next night
It came again with a great wakening light,

And showed the names whom love of God had blessed,
And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.

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THE INCHCAPE ROCK.

THE INCHCAPE ROCK.

R. SOUTHEY.

No stir in the air, no stir in the sea,
The ship was as still as she could be,
Her sails from heaven received no motion
Her keel was steady in the ocean.

Without either sign or sound of their shock
The waves flow'd over the Inchcape Rock;
So little they rose, so little they fell,
They did not move the Inchcape Bell.

The Abbot of Aberbrothok

Had placed that bell on the Inchcape Rock; On a buoy in the storm it floated and swung, And over the waves its warning rung.

When the Rock was hid by the surges' swell,
The Mariners heard the warning bell;
And then they knew the perilous Rock,
And blest the Abbot of Aberbrothok.

The sun in heaven was shining gay,

All things were joyful on that day;

The sea-birds screamed as they wheeled round, And there was joyance in their sound.

The buoy of the Inchcape Bell was seen
A darker speck on the ocean green;
Sir Ralph the Rover walked his deck,
And he fixed his eye on the darker speck.

THE INCHCAPE ROCK.

He felt the cheering power of spring,
It made him whistle, it made him sing;
His heart was mirthful to excess,

But the Rover's mirth was wickedness.

His eye was on the Inchcape float;

Quoth he:

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My men, put out the boat,

And row me to the Inchcape Rock,

And I'll plague the Abbot of Aberbrothok."

The boat is lowered, the boatmen row,
And to the Inchcape Rock they go;
Sir Ralph bent over from the boat,

And he cut the bell from the Inchcape float.

Down sunk the bell with a gurgling sound,

The bubbles rose and burst around.

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Quoth Sir Ralph :-"The next who comes to the Rock Won't bless the Abbot of Aberbrothok."

Sir Ralph the Rover sailed away,

He scoured the seas for many a day;

And now grown rich with plundered store,
He steers his course for Scotland's shore.

So thick a haze o'erspreads the sky
They cannot see the sun on high;
The wind hath blown a gale all day,
At evening it hath died away.

On the deck the Rover takes his stand,
So dark it is they see no land.

Quoth Sir Ralph :- "It will be lighter soon,

For there is the dawn of the rising moon."

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THE RAINBOW.

"Canst hear," said one, "the breakers roar? For methinks we should be near the shore; Now where we are I cannot tell,

But I wish I could hear the Inchcape Bell."

They hear no sound; the swell is strong;
Though the wind hath fallen, they drift along,
Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock:
"Oh Christ! it is the Inchcape Rock!"

Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair,
He curst himself in his despair;
The waves rush in on every side,
The ship is sinking beneath the tide.

But even in his dying fear

One dreadful sound could the Rover hear,-
A sound as if with the Inchcape Bell
The fiends below were ringing his knell.

THE RAINBOW.

J. KEBLE.

A FRAGMENT of a rainbow bright
Through the moist air I see,
All dark and damp on yonder height,
All bright and clear to me.

An hour ago the storm was here,
The gleam was far behind,