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THE SOLDIER'S HOME. appeared threshold o'erpowering thrice possession initials almanacs steadfast bombed struggled undulating hideous partridge substitute
clarion brilliant exquisite quagmire
My untried Muse shall no high tone assume,
father thrice, but no one came;
How sweet it was to breathe that cooler air,
And up they flew like banners in the wind;
never; They roll and foam, and roll and foam for ever. But here was peace,
which home can yield; The grasshopper, the partridge in the field, And ticking clock, were all at once become The substitute for clarion, fife, and drum. While thus I mused, still gazing, gazing still, On beds of moss that spread the window sill, I deemed no moss my eyes had ever seen Had been so lovely, brilliant, fresh, and green, And guessed some infant hand had placed it there, And prized its hue, so exquisite, so rare. Feelings on feelings mingling, doubling rose; My heart felt everything but calm repose; I could not reckon minutes, hours, nor years, But rose at once, and bursting into tears; But like a fool, confused, sat down again,
And thought upon the past with shame and pair ;
Two shadows then I saw, two voices heard,
THE HARE. unusual favourite numerous outstripped entangle preferred following opposite
“ Last Wednesday night, while we were at supper, between the hours of eight and nine, I heard an unusual in the back parlour, as if one of the hares were entangled and trying to disentangle herself. I was just going to rise from the table, when it ceased. In about five minutes, a voice on the outside of the parlour-door inquired if one of my hares had got away. I at once rushed into the next room, and found that my poor favourite puss had made her escape. She had gnawed in sunder the strings of a lattice-work, with which, I thought, I had secured the window, and which
I preferred to any other kind of blind, because it admitted plenty of air.
“From thence I hastened to the kitchen, when I saw some one who told me, that having seen her, just after she had dropped into the street, he attempted to cover her with his hat, but screamed out, and she leapt directly over his head. I then desired him to pursue as fast as possible, not expecting to see her again, but desirous to learn, if possible, what became of her.
“In something less than an hour, Richard returned, almost breathless, with the following account:-That soon after he began to run he came in sight of a most numerous hunt, of men, women, children, and dogs; that he did his best to keep back the dogs, and presently outstripped the crowd, so that the race was, at last, disputed between himself and puss-she ran right through the town, and down the lane that leads to the town. A little before she came to house he got the start and turned her; she pushed for the town again, and soon after she entered it, sought shelter in a tan-yard. Some harvest-men were at supper, and saw her from the opposite side of the way. Then she came to the tan-pits full of water, and while she was struggling out of one pit and plunging into another, and almost drowned, one of the men drew her out by the ears and secured her. She was the well washed in a bucket, to get the lime out of her coat, and brought home at ten o'clock.
“This frolic cost us four shillings, but you may be sure we did not grudge a farthing of it. The poor creature received only a little hurt in one of her claws, and in one of her ears, and is now almost as well as ever."
THE ARAB'S FAREWELL TO HIS STEED. beautiful impatient brilliant indignant
mirage wreaths curbed My beautiful! my beautiful! that standest meekly by, With thy proudly arched and glossy neck, and dark
and fiery eye; Fret not to roam the desert now with all thy winged
speed, I may not mount on then again,—thou’rt sold, my
Arab steed! Fret not with that impatient hoof-snuff not the
breezy wind; The further that thou fliest now, so far am I behind : The stranger hath thy bridle rein—thy master hath
his goldFleet limbed and beautiful, farewell! thou’rt sold,
my steed—thou’rt sold !
Farewell! those free untired limbs full many a mile
To reach the chill and wintry sky which clouds the
stranger's home; Some other hand, less fond, must now thy corn and bread
prepare; The silky mane I braided once must be another's
care! The morning yet shall dawn again, but never more
with thee Shall I gallop through the desert paths, where we
were wont to be : Evening shall darken on the earth; and o'er the
sandy plain Some other steed, with slower step, shall bear me