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THE MOSS ROSE.

FROM THE GERMAN OF KRUMMACHER.

The angel of the flowers, one day,
Beneath a rose-tree sleeping lay;
That spirit to whose charge 'tis given
To bathe young buds in dews of heaven;-
Awaking from his light repose,
The angel whispered to the rose :
“O fondest object of my care,
Still fairest found, where all are fair;
For the sweet shade thou giv'st to me,
Ask what thou wilt, 'tis granted thee."
" Then,” said the rose, with deepened glow,
"On me another grace bestow : 5
The spirit paused in silent thought,-
What grace was there that flower had not ?"
'Twas but a moment-o'er the rose
A veil of moss the angel throws,
And robed in nature's simplest weed,
Could there a flower that rose exceed !

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This plot of orchard ground is ours,
My trees they are, my sister's flowers ;
Here rest your wings when they are weary,
Here lodge as in a sanctuary!

Come to us often, fear no wrong;

Sit near us on the bough!
We'll talk of sunshine and of song,
And summer days when we were young;
Sweet childish days that were as long

As twenty days are now.

THE SOLDIER'S RETURN.

Miss BLAMIRE. The wars for many a month were o'er

Ere I could reach my native shed; My friends ne'er hoped to see me more,

And wept for me as for the dead. As I drew near, the cottage blaz'd,

The evening fire was clear and bright, As through the window long I gaz'd,

And saw each friend with dear delight. My father in his corner sat,

My mother drew her useful thread; My brothers strove to make them chat,

My sisters bak'd the household bread.

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“And many a message have I brought

To families I cannot find;
Long for John Goodman's have I sought,

To tell them Hal's not far behind.”
“Oh! does he live!” my father cried ;

My mother did not stay to speak;
My Jessy now I silent eyed,

Who throbb'd as if her heart would break.
My mother saw her catching sigh,

And hid her face behind the rock,
While tears swam round in every eye,

And not a single word was spoke.
“He lives indeed! this kerchief see,

At parting his dear Jessy gave;
He sent it far, with love, by me,

To show he still escapes the grave.”
An arrow, darting from a bow,

Could not more quick the token reach ;
The patch from off my face I drew,

And gave my voice its well known speech.
“My Jessy dear!” I softly said,

She gaz'd and answer'd with a sigh;
My sisters look'd, as half afraid ;

My mother fainted quite for joy.

My father danced around his son,

My brothers shook my hand away;
My mother said “her glass might run,

She car'd not now how soon the day.”

“ Hout, woman!” cried my father dear,

"A wedding first, I'm sure, we'll have ; I warrant we'll live a hundred year,

Nay, may be, lass, escape the grave!” 1. Was the soldier expected home?

11. What reply did the soldier make ? 2. What time in the day did he reach 12. Who is Hál, and what is the full his native cot?

name? 3. How were his father and mother and 13. Can you tell me what the father's the rest of the family engaged ?

name was? 4. Name the friend to whom Jean was 14. What effect was produced by the whispering.

information that Harry was alive? 5. What might the effects of his sudden 15. What is meant by the rock, in verse entrance have been ?

13th ? 6. How did he manage to avoid giving 16. Who knew the kerchief well, and them too great a surprise ?

why did she know it so well ? 7. Who only recognised him at once ? 17. Who fainted, and how did the father

8. How did Tray show that he knew act? him?

18. How did the brothers act, and what 9. What word engaged their loves at did the mother say? once, and why?

19. What is meant by glass, in verse 10. Of whom did the old man speak ? 17th ?

KING CANUTE.

BERNARD Barton.

“ CANUTE, the greatest and most powerful monarch of his time, sovereign of Denmark and Norway, as well as of England, could not fail of meeting with adulation from his courtiers ; a tribute which is liberally paid, even to the meanest and weakest princes. Some of his flatterers, breaking out one day in admiration of his grandeur, exclaimed, that everything was possible for him; upon which the monarch, it is said, ordered his chair to be set on the sea-shore, while the tide was rising; and as the waters approached he commanded them to retire, and to obey the voice of him who was lord of the ocean. He feigned to sit some time in expectation of their submission; but when the sea still advanced towards him, and began to wash him with its billows, he turned to his courtiers, and remarked to them, that every creature in the universe was feeble and impotent, and that power resided with one Being alone, in whose hands were all the elements of nature; who could say to the ocean, Thus far shalt thou go, and no farther; and who could level with his nod the most towering piles of human pride and ambition." _Hume's History of England

Upon his royal throne he sat,

In a monarch's thoughtful mood;
Attendants on his regal state

His servile courtiers stood,
With foolish flatteries, false and vain,
To win his smile, his favour gain.

They told him e'en the mighty deep

His kingly sway confessed:
That he could bid its billows leap

Or still its stormy breast!
He smiled contemptuously, and cried,
“ Be then my boasted empire tried !”
Down to the ocean's sounding shore

The proud procession came,
To see its billows' wild uproar

King Canute's power proclaim;
Or, at his high and dread command,
In gentle murmurs kiss the strand.
Not so, thought he, their noble king,

As his course he seaward sped, -
And each base slave like a guilty thing,

Hung down his conscious head :-
He knew the ocean's Lord on high!
They, that he scorned their senseless lie.
His throne was placed by ocean's side,

He lifted his sceptre there;
Bidding, with tones of kingly pride,

The waves their strife forbear:-
And, while he spoke his royal will,
All but the winds and waves were still.
Louder the stormy blast swept by,

In scorn of his idle word;
The briny deep its waves tossed high,

By his mandate undeterred,

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