How many a tie that once was sweet

Has been cruelly snapp'd by a slanderer's tongue ! How many a friend, whom we used to meet

With welcoming words, and to whom we clung In joy or in sorrow, in pleasure or pain,

Has suddenly seemed to be false and untrue: How oft should we find that our doubts were unkind, If we only knew ?--if we only knew?

There are some will sigh and whisper low

Of a love that is changeless, and deep and pure : And we think-do we not ?-as they tell us so That of somebody's heart, at least, we are sure. But Fancy is apt to wander about,

And to sip from a hundred flowers the dew: Would our love be as deep, would our jealousy sleep, If we only knew?-if we only knew?

Then comes the time when the knot is tied:
Surely of life its most charming scene!
The bridegroom looks down on his beautiful bride,
And dreams of a future all bright and serene.
Let the lad dream on: shall his hopes be fulfilled?
One turns out a slattern-another a shrew,

How many would pause at the very church doors
If they only knew ?—if they only knew?

This world is composed of rich and poor,
And each sees life in a different way;
Whilst Lazarus begs from door to door,
› Dives fares sumptuously every day.
But which is the happier-peasant or lord?
That is a problem solved by few,

For the rich man may sigh, as the peasant goes by,
If we only knew ?-if we only knew

A tradesman fails and his credit is gone!

He has hardly a shilling to call his own.
He may have been patiently struggling on,

But his prospects are blighted-prosperity town.
The world in its wisdom (?) no doubt will condemn :
But don't let us treat him as heedless men dɔ-
Though he failed so ignobly, he may have fought nobly,
If we only knew !-if we only knew!

We are ever too apt to be hard on a man
Who doesn't appear to have success:
Instead of helping him all we can

We strive to render his chances less.

A kindly word, or a friendly hand,

May help him-who knows?-to pull easily through :
It may give him fresh life to renew the strife
If we only knew!—if we only knew!

It's each for himself and the weak to the wall!

So runs the world for ever and aye :

The stout hearts advance-while the feebler ones fall

To perish alone in the world's highway,

Let us succour the frail ones, bearing in mind

That though in this world we meet not our due,

For a kind act done, a crown may be won

In the world to come-if we only knew!

M. B. S. SPurr.

THE GAME OF LIFE.

BY JOHN F. COLES.

(With instrumental accompaniment.)

This life is but a game of cards, which mortals have to learn;
Each shuffles, cuts, and deals the pack, and each a trump doth turn;
Some bring a high card to the top, and others bring a low;
Some hold a hand quite full of trumps, while others none can
show.

Some shuffle with a practised hand, and pick their cards/with care, So they may know, when they are dealt, where all the leaders are; Thus fools are made the dupes of rogues, while rogues (each other cheat,

And he is very wise indeed who never meets defeat.

When playing some throw out the ace, the counting cards to save, Some play the deuce, and some the ten, but many/play the knave; Some play for money, some for fun, and some for worldly fame, But not until the game's played out can they count up their game.

When hearts are trumps we play for love, and pleasure rules the hour,

No thoughts of sorrow check our joy in beauty's rosy bower; We sing, we dance, sweet verses make, our cards at random play, And while our trump remains on toplour game's a holiday.

When diamonds chance to crown the pack, the players stake their gold,

And heavy sums are lost and won by gamblers, young and old; Intent on winning, each his game doth watch with eager eye; How he may see his neighbour's cards, and beat him on the sly.

When clubs are trumps, look out for war on ocean and on land; For bloody horrors always come when clubs are held in hand; Then lives are stoked instead of gold, the dogs of war are freed; There's sorrow in every land when clubs have got the lead.

Last game of all is when the spade is turn'd by hand of Time;
He always deals the closing game in every age and clime;
No matter how much each man wins, or how much each man

saves,

The spade will finish up the game, and dig the player's grave.

THE

SPINNING-WHEEL

JOHN F. WALLER.

SONG.

(With instrumental accompaniment.)

Mellow the moonlight to shine is beginning;
Close by the window yonng Aileen is spinning;
Bent o'er the fire, her blind grandmother, sitting,
Is crooning, and moaning, and drowsily knitting,-
66 Aileen, achora, I hear some one tapping."

""Tis the ivy, dear mother, against the glass flapping."
"Aileen, I surely hear somebody sighing."

"'Tis the sound, mother dear, of the summer wind dying."

Merrily, cheerily, noisily whirring,

Swings the wheel, spins the reel, while the foot's stirring ; Sprightly and lightly, and airily ringing,

Thrills the sweet voice of the young maiden singing.

"What's that noise that I hear at the window, I wonder?" ""Tis the little birds chirping the holly-bush under." "What makes you be shoving and moving your stool on, And singing all wrong that ould song of 'The Coolun' ?"There's a form at the casement-the form of her true-loveAnd he whispers, with face bent, "I'm waiting for you, love; Get up on the stool! through the lattice step lightly! We'll rove in the grove while the moon's shining brightly." Merrily, cheerily, noisily whirring,

Swings the reel, spins the wheel, while the foot's stirring; Sprightly and lightly, and airily ringing,

Thrills the sweet voice of the young maiden singing.

The maid shakes her head, on her lip lays her fingers,
Steals up from her seat-longs to go, and yet lingers;
A frightened glance turns to her drowsy grandmother,
Puts one foot on the stool, spins the wheel with the other
Lazily, easily, swings now the wheel round;

Slowly and lowly is heard now the reel's sound;

Noiseless and light to the lattice above her

The maid steps-then leaps to the arms of her lover!
Slower-and slower-and slower the wheel swings;
Lower-and lower-and lower the reel rings;

Ere the reel and the wheel stop their ringing and movingThrough the grove the young lovers by moonlight are roving.

THE EAGLE'S ROCK.

'Twas the Golden Eagle's rock, craggy and wild and lone, Where he sat in state, with his royal mate, on his undisputed

throne,

High on the dizzy steep did their blood stained eyrie lie,

Where the white bones told who had robb'd the fold when the

shepherd was not by ;

Well might the spoilers gloat at ease in their fortress grey,
For never had man since the world began clambered its height

half-way.

And the Golden Eagle stood eyeing the noonday sun

Till the clamouring cry of his nestlings nigh charged him with work undone ;

And his mighty wings are spread, and he sweepeth down chasms

wide,

And his fierce eyes gleam by the mountain stream, and he scours

the hill's green side;

Then over a shady glen doth the bold marauder sail,

Where villagers gay hold a festal day down in their verdant dale. Apart from a joyous group a mother her darling bears,

With happy smiles at his baby wiles, his innocent mirth she shares;

There she sits on the velvet sward, shaded by trees at noon, And rocks him to rest on her loving breast, singing a low sweet

tuna;

HH