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I opened my arms, how well he knew me!
I opened my arms and took him to me;
And there in the gloom of the groaning mast
We kissed our first and we kissed our last.

'Twas happy to be in little Ram's Island, But now 'tis as sad as sad can be; For the ship that sailed with Phelimy Hyland Is sunk for ever beneath the sea. Ochone, ochone! Ochone, ochone! And 'tis oh! but I wear the weeping willow And wander alone by the lonesome billow, And cry to him over the cruel sea, “Phelimy Hyland, come back to me!”

UNDER MY WINDOW.
THOMAS WEST WOOD.

Under my window, under my window,
All in the Midsummer weather,
Three little girls with fluttering curls
Flit to and fro together:-
There's Bell with her bonnet of satin sheen,
And Maud with her mantle of silver-green,
And Kate with her scarlet feather.

Under my window, under my window,
Leaning stealthily over,
Merry and clear, the voice I hear,
Of each glad-hearted rover.
Ah! shy little Kate, she steals my roses;
And Maud and Bell twine wreaths and posies,
As merry as bees in clover.

Under my window, under my window,
In the blue Midsummer weather,
Stealing slow, on a hushed tiptoe,
I catch them all together:-
Bell with her bonnet of satin sheen,
And Maud with her mantle of silver-green,
And Kate with the scarlet feather.

Under my window, under my window,
And off through the orchard closes;
While Maud she flouts, and Bell she pouts,
They scamper and drop their posies;
But dear little Kate takes naught amiss,
And leaps in my arms with a loving kiss,
And I give her all my roses.

THE MOUSE AND THE CARE.
ELIZA COOK.

A mouse found a beautiful piece of plum-cake, The richest and sweetest that mortal could make; 'Twas heavy with citron and fragrant with spice, And covered with sugar all sparkling as ice.

“My stars!” cried the mouse, while his eye beamed

with glee, “Here’s a treasure I’ve found; what a feast it will

be: But, hark! there's a noise, ’tis my brothers at play; So I'll hide with the cake, lest they wander this

way.

“Not a bit shall they have, for I know I can eat Every morsel myself, and I’ll have such a treat;” So off went the mouse, as he held the cake fast; While his hungry young brothers went scamper

ing past. He nibbled, and nibbled, and panted, but still He kept gulping it down till he made himself ill;

Yet he swallowed it all, and ’tis easy to guess, He was soon so unwell that he groaned with dis

tress.

His family heard him, and as he grew worse,
They sent for the doctor, who made him rehearse
How he'd eaten the cake to the very last crumb;
Without giving his playmates and relatives some.

“Ah me!” cried the doctor, “advice is too late,

You must die before long, so prepare for your fate;

If you had but divided the cake with your brothers,

'Twould have done you no harm, and been good for the others.

“Had you shared it, the treat had been wholesome enough;

But eaten by one, it was dangerous stuff;

So prepare for the worst;” and the word had scarce fled,

When the doctor turned round, and the patient was dead.

Now all little people the lesson may take,
And some large ones may learn from the mouse
and the cake:
Not to be over-selfish with what we may gain;
Or the best of our pleasures may turn into pain.

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THE CAPTAIN’S DAUGHTER.

JAMES T. FIELDS.

We were crowded in the cabin,
Not a soul would dare to sleep–

It was midnight on the waters
And a storm was on the deep.

'Tis a fearful thing in winter
To be shattered by the blast,

And to hear the rattling trumpet
Thunder “Cut away the mast!”

So we shuddered there in silence—
For the stoutest held his breath,

While the hungry sea was roaring,
And the breakers talked with death.

As there we sat in darkness,
Each one busy with his prayers,

“We are lost!” the captain shouted,
As he staggered down the stairs.

But his little daughter whispered,
As she took his icy hand:

“Isn't God upon the ocean,
Just the same as on the land?”

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