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"I marked her cheek yet paler grow,
More sunken yet her eye;
And to my soul assurance came

That she was near to die,

And hourly was my earnest prayer for her on high.

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"Oh, what a wo seemed then to us,
The friendless orphan's fate!
I dared not picture to my mind,
How drear, how desolate -

But, like a frightened thing, my heart
Shrunk from a pang so great!

"We rarely left my mother's side,
'Twas joy to touch her hand,
And with unwearying, patient love,
Beside her couch to stand,
To wait on her, and every wish
Unspoke to understand.

At length, oh joy beyond all joys!
When we believed him dead,
One calm and sunny afternoon,
As she lay on her bed

In quiet sleep, methought below
I heard my brother's tread.

"I rose, and on the chamber stair,
I met himself - no other
More beautiful than ere before,
My tall and manly brother!

I should have swooned, but for the thought
Of my poor sleeping mother.

"I cannot tell you how we met;
I could not speak for weeping;
Nor had I words enough for joy,
My heart within seemed leaping,
I should have screamed, but for the thought
Of her who there lay sleeping!

"That Marc returned in joy to us,
My mother dreamed e'en then,
And that prepared her for the bliss
Of meeting him again;

To tell how great that bliss, would need
The tongue of wisest men!

"His lightest tone, his very step,
More power had they to win
My drooping mother back to life,
Than every medicine;

She rose again, like one revived
From death where he had been!

"The story that my brother told Was long, and full of joy ; Scarce to the city had he come,

A poor and friendless boy,

Than he chanced to meet a merchant good, From whom he asked employ.

"The merchant was a childless man; And in my brother's face

Something he saw that moved his heart

To such unusual grace;

'My son,' said he, 'is dead, wilt thou Supply to me his place?'

"Even then, bound to the golden East,
His ship before him lay;

And this new bond of love was formed
There, standing on the quay;
My brother went on board with him,
And sailed that very day!

"The letter that he wrote to us, It never reached our hand;

And while we drooped with anxious love,
He gained the Indian strand,

And saw a thousand wondrous things,
In that old, famous land.

And many rich and curious things,
Bright bird and pearly shell,

He brought, as if to realize

The tales he had to tell;

My mother smiled, and wept, and smiled, And listened, and grew well.

"The merchant loved him more and more,

And did a father's part;

And blessed my brother for the love
That healed his wounded heart;
He was a friend that heaven had sent
Kind mercy to impart.

"So do not droop, my gentle friend,
Though grief may burden sore;
Look up to God, for he hath love
And comfort in great store,

And ofttimes moveth human hearts
To bless us o'er and o'er "

ELLEN MORE.

"SWEET Ellen More," said I, 66

Beneath the sunny sky ;

Why stand you musing all alone,

come forth

With such an anxious eye? What is it, child, that aileth you?" And thus she made reply:

"The fields are green, the skies are bright, The leaves are on the tree,

And 'mong the sweet flowers of the thyme Far flies the honey-bee;

And the lark hath sung since morning prime, And merrily singeth he.

"Yet not for this shall I go forth
On the open hills to play,
There's not a bird that singeth now,
Would tempt me hence to stray;
I would not leave our cottage door
For a thousand flowers to-day!

"And why?" said I, "what is there here Beside your cottage door,

To make a merry girl like you

Thus idly stand to pore?

There is a mystery in this thing,

Now tell me, Ellen More!"

The fair girl looked into my face,
With her dark and serious eye;
Silently awhile she looked,

Then heaved a quiet sigh;
And, with a half-reluctant will,
Again she made reply.

"Three years ago, unknown to us,
When nuts were on the tree,
Even in the pleasant harvest-time,
My brother went to sea
Unknown to us, to sea he went,
And a woful house were we.

"That winter was a weary time, A long, dark time of wo,

For we knew not in what ship he sailed, And vainly sought to know;

And day and night the loud, wild winds Seemed evermore to blow.

"My mother lay upon her bed, Her spirit solely tossed

With dismal thoughts of storm and wreck

Upon some savage coast;

But morn and eve we prayed to Heaven

That he might not be lost.

"And when the pleasant spring came on,

And fields again were green,

He sent a letter full of news,

Of the wonders he had seen; Praying us to think him dutiful As he afore had been

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