THE ORPHANS' VOYAGE HOME. THE men could hardly keep the deck, so bitter was the night; Koen north-east winds sang through the shrouds, the deck was frosty white; While overhead the glistening stars put forth their points of light. Meanwhile the cabin-passengers in dreams of pleasure roam. At length the orphans sank to sleep upon the freezing deck, Close huddled side to side,-each arm clasped round the other's neck; On deck, behind a bale of goods, two With heads bent down, they dreamed the orphans crouched to sleep; But 'twas so cold the younger boy in vain tried not to weep; They were so poor they had no right near cabin doors to creep. earth was fading to a speck. The steerage passengers have all been taken down below, And round the stove they warm their limbs into a drowsy glow; The elder round the younger wrapped his And soon within their berths forget the little ragged cloak, icy wind and snow. Now morning dawns: the land in sight, smiles beam on every face! The pale and qualmy passengers begin the deck to pace, Seeking along the sun-lit cliffs some wellknown spot to trace. Only the orphans do not stir, of all this bustling train: They reached their home that starry night! they will not stir again! The winter's breath proved kind to them, and ended all their pain. But in their deep and freezing sleep clasped rigid to each other, In dreams they cried, "The bright morn breaks! Home, home is here, my brother! The angel Death has been our friend!— we come! dear father! mother!" ANON. THE BLIND GIRL'S LAMENT. IT is not that I cannot see The birds and flowers of spring; "Tis not that beauty seems to me A dreamy, unknown thing; It is not that I cannot mark The blue and star-set sky; Nor ocean's foam, nor mountain's peak,— That thus I weep and sigh. They tell me that the birds, whose notes Fall full upon mine ear, Are not all beautiful to sight, Though sweet their songs to hear. They tell me that the gayest flowers But strange and scentless things. "TELL me a story, please," my little girl Lisped from her cradle. So I bent me down, And told her how it rained and rained and rained, Naught she spied Save wide, dark waters, and a frowning sky, Nor found her weary foot a place of rest. So, with a leaf of olive in her mouth, Till all the flowers were covered, and the Sole fruit of her drear voyage, which pertrees stood chance Hid their tall heads, and where the houses Upon some wrecking billow floated by, With drooping wing the peaceful ark she sought. And people dwelt a fearful deluge rolled; Because the world was wicked, and refused To heed the words of God. But one good man, Who long had warned the wicked to repent, Obey, and live, taught by the voice of Heaven, Had built an ark; and thither, with his wife And children, turned for safety. Two and two, Of beasts and birds and creeping things, he took, With food for all; and, when the tempest roared, The righteous man that wandering dove received, And to her mate restored, who, with sad moans, Had wondered at her absence. Then I looked Upon the child, to see if her young thoughts Wearied with following mine. But her blue eye | Was a glad listener, and the eager breath Of pleased attention curled her parted lip. And so I told her how the waters dried, And the great fountains of the sky poured And the green branches waved, and the out A ceaseless flood, till all beside were drowned, They in their quiet vessel dwelt secure. And so the mighty waters bare them up, And o'er the bosom of the deep they sailed For many days. But then a gentle dove 'Scaped from the casement of the ark, and spread Her lovely pinion o'er that boundless wave. All was desolation. Chirping nest, Nor face of man, nor living thing she saw; For all the people of the earth were drowned, Because of disobedience. sweet buds Came up in loveliness, and that meek dove Went forth to build her nest, while thousand birds Awoke their songs of praise, and the tired ark Upon the breezy breast of Ararat Since, many a time, When to her rest, ere evening's earliest star, That little one is laid, with earnest tone, And pure cheek pressed to mine, she fondly says, Tell me the story of the Dove." SIGOURNEY. THE ORPHANS. My chaise the village inn did gain, The time till supper to beguile That mouldered round the ancient pile. There many a humble green grave showed Where want, and pain, and toil did rest; And many a flattering stone I viewed O'er those who once had wealth possest. A faded beech its shadow brown Threw o'er a grave where sorrow slept, On which, though scarce with grass o'ergrown, Two ragged children sat and wept. A piece of bread between them lay, Which neither seemed inclined to take; And yet they looked so much a prey To want, it made my heart to ache. "My little children, let me know Why you in such distress appear, And why you wasteful from you throw That bread which many a one might cheer?" The little boy, in accents sweet, Replied, while tears each other chased: "Lady, we've not enough to eat Ah! if we had we should not waste. But sister Mary's naughty grown, And will not eat, whate'er I say; Though sure I am the bread's her own, For she has tasted none to-day." Indeed," the wan, starved Mary said, "Till Henry eat I'll eat no more; For yesterday I got some bread, He's had none since the day before." My heart did swell, my bosom heave, I felt as though deprived of speech; Silent I sat upon the grave, And clasped the clay-cold hand of each. With looks of woe too sadly true, With looks that spoke a grateful heart, The shivering boy then nearer drew, And did his simple tale impart : "Before my father went away, Enticed by bad men o'er the sea, Sister and I did nought but play- And looked so changed, I cannot tell; That God our Father then would be! But when my father came not here, I thought if we could find the sea, But when we reached the sea, and found And cried, and wished we both were dead. So we returned to mother's grave, And only long with her to be; We'll go and search for God around; I think perhaps she'll send him here."--- And God shall be your Father still; "Twas he in mercy sent me here, To teach you to obey his will, Your steps to guide, your hearts to cheer." ANON. |