ROBINSON OF LEYDEN.

HE sleeps not here; in hope and prayer
His wandering flock had gone before,
But he, the shepherd, might not share
Their sorrows on the wintry shore.

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.

Before the Speedwell's anchor swung,

THE DEACON'S MASTERPIECE;

Ere yet the Mayflower's sail was spread, While round his feet the Pilgrims clung, OR, THE WONDERFUL "ONE-HOSS SHAY." The pastor spake, and thus he said:

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Still cry them, and the world shall hear,
Ye dwellers by the storm-swept sea!
Ye have not built by Haerlem Meer,
Nor on the land-locked Zuyder-Zee!

The pastor slumbers by the Rhine,-
In alien earth the exiles lie,
Their nameless graves our holiest shrine,
His words our noblest battle-cry!

Thut the weakes' place mus' stan' the Little of all we value here strain;

'n' the way t' fix it, uz I maintain, Is only jest

T' make that place uz strong uz the rest."