« AnteriorContinuar »
For vengeance ! Rouse, ye Romans ! rouse, ye slaves ! Have
brave sons Look, in the next fierce brawl,
“ LITTLE JIM.”
(EDWARD FARMER.) The cottage was a thatched one, the outside old and
mean, Yet everything within that cot was wondrous neat and
The night was dark and stormy, the wind was howling
wild, A patient mother watched beside the death-bed of her
child A little worn-outcreature—his once bright eyes grown dim; It was the collier's wife and child—they called him
“ Little Jim."
And oh, to see the briny tears fast hurrying down her
cheek, As she offered up a prayer of thought—she was afraid to
speak, Lest that might 'waken one she loved far better than her
life, For she had all mother's heart, had that poor collier's With hands uplifted, see ! she kneels beside the sufferer's
bed And prays that God will spare her boy, and take herself
She gets her answer from her child—soft fell these words
from him. “Mother, the angels they do smile, and beckon "Little
Jim.' I have no pain, dear mother, now, but oh ! I am so dryJust moisten poor Jim's lips again, and, mother, don't ye
cry." With gentle, trembling haste she held a tea-cup to his
lips; He smiled to thank her as he took three little tiny sips“Tell father, when he comes home from work, I said good
night to him ; And, mother, now I'll go to sleep." Alas! poor “Little
She saw that he was dying—the child she loved so dear, Had uttered the last words that she might ever hope to
hear, The cottage door is opened—the collier's step is heardThe father and the mother meet, but neither spake a
word. He felt that all was over-he knew his child was dead, He took the candle in his hand, and walked toward the
His quivering lips give token of the grief he'd fain con
cealAnd see ! his wife has joined him—the stricken couple
With hearts bowed down with sadness they humbly ask
of Him In heaven once more to meet again their own poor
“ Little Jim."
DAVID'S LAMENT FOR ABSALOM.
(NATHANIEL P. WILLIS.)
The pall was settled. He who slept beneath
my noble boy! that thou should'st die ! Thou, who wert made so beautifully fair ! That death should settle in thy glorious eye,
And leave his stillness in this clustering hair ! How could he mark thee for the silent tomb,
My proud boy, Absalom !
“Cold is thy brow, my son! and I am chill,
As to my bosom I have tried to press thee!
How was I wont to feel my pulses thrill,
Like a rich harp-string, yearning to caress thee, And hear thy sweet ‘My father !' from those dumb
And cold lips, Absalom !
“The grave hath won thee! I shall hear the gush
Of music, and the voices of the young; And life will pass me in the mantling blush,
And the dark tresses to the soft winds flung ;But thou no more with thy sweet voice shalt come
To meet me, Absalom !
“ And oh! when I am stricken, and my heart,
Like a bruised reed, is waiting to be broken, How will its love for thee, as I depart,
Yearn for thine ear to drink its last deep token ! It were so sweet, amid death's gathering gloom,
To see thee, Absalom !
“And now, farewell! 'Tis hard to give thee up,
With death so like a gentle slumber on thee! And thy dark sin "oh! I could drink the cup,
If from this woe its bitterness had won thee. May God have called thee, like a wanderer home,
My lost boy, Absalom !”
He covered up his face, and bowed himself
THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS.
(E. W. LONGFELLOW.)
It was the schooner Hesperus,
That sailed the wintry sea; And the skipper had taken his little daughter
To bear him company.
Blue were her eyes as the fairy flax,
Her cheeks like the dawn of day,
That ope in the month of May.
The skipper he stood beside the helm,
His pipe was in his mouth, And he watched how the veering flaw did blow
The smoke now west, now south.
Then up and spake an old sailor,
Had sailed the Spanish main, “I pray thee put into yonder port,
For I fear a hurricane.
“ Last night the moon had a golden ring,
And to-night no moon we see !"
And a scornful laugh laughed he.
Colder and louder blew the wind,
A gale from the north-east;
And the billows frothed like yeast.
Down came the storm, and smote amain
The vessel in its strength; She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed,
Then leaped her cable's length.