ages viso Wherever through the ages. The attors of self-sacrifice, Where love its armes has opened wide Or man for man has calmly died I see the sauce white wings outspread That hivered vin the Masters head Lip from und alect time they conce The martyr snels of heathend in And to His cross and passion bring Then fellowship of duffering. John Glwhitter You might be sure, although her gaze was on the meshes of the lace, Yet her thoughts were with her child. But when the boy had heard her voice, as o'er her work she did rejoice, And slyly creeping by the wall, he seized a single plume, let fall By some wild bird of longest feather; And all a-tremble with his freak, he touched her slightly on the cheek. O what a loveliness her eyes gather in that one moment's space, While peeping round the post she spies her darling's laughing face! O mother's love is glorifying― On the cheek like sunset lying,— In the eyes a moistened light, Here is another sweet lyric of his : If I desire with pleasant songs to throw a merry hour away, While I my helpless hands am wringing. And then another time, if I a noon in shady bower would pass, Comes he, with stealthy gestures, sly, and flinging down upon the grass, Quoth he to me: My master dear, Think of this noontide such a year! And if elsewhile I lay my head on pillow, with intent to sleep, Says he: These books, these tokens number- So every time when I would yield an hour to quiet, comes he still; For merriment's, or sleep's, or leisure's. Here is the ELIZA COOK's lyrics are well known, especially her song of the Old Arm-chair, Nature's Gentleman, Washington, &c. opening of her cheerful lines on The World: Talk who will of the world as a desert of thrall, Yet, yet there is bloom on the waste; Though the chalice of Life hath its acid and gall, But the rich rays of sunshine that brighten our way Now for the Old Arm-chair: I love it! I love it! and who shall dare I've bedewed it with tears, and embalmed it with sighs; Not a tie will break, not a link will start. Would ye learn the spell?-a mother sat there; In childhood's hour I lingered near The hallowed seat, with listening ear; And gentle words that mother would give, To fit me to die, and teach me to live: She told me shame would never betide With truth for my creed, and God for my guide; As I knelt beside that old arm-chair. * Say it is folly, and deem me weak; While the scalding drops start down my cheek ; My soul from a mother's old arm-chair. MILMAN'S poetry is, for the most part, of a serious cast; yet he has given us the following light-hearted stanzas:— I would not from the wise require the lumber of their learned lore; Nor would I from the rich desire a single counter of their store : For I have ease, and I have health, and I have spirits light as air; And more than wisdom-more than wealth, A merry heart that laughs at care. 287 |