But our ears were so used to her bleating, we hear what no others can hear, The cry of a lost little child from some distant, unseen sphere. Only a wee bit bairn, with lamb-like innocent ways, But the lilt of her little voice will be heard to the end of our days, Blithe as a bee was our baby, and sweet as the flowers in May; Now she sleeps under the daisies with which she delighted to play. They bid us be patient and faithful, that God brings all things right, But we pine for her prattle by day, and her dear little form at night. They say she is singing to angels-we want her to sing to us here ; Could we tire of such music as hers in little less than a year ? Only a wee little bairn, with pinky hands and toes, Teeth like the purest of pearls, lips and cheeks like a rose, Beautiful glossy hair, that curled like the shoots of a vine, And bound with a magic clasp her mother's heart and mine. They say she is happy-we feel it! but think that it hardly can be Torn from her brothers and sisters, her loving mother and me. We gaze at the stars above us, and bow to the weight of our load; Perchance the same Hand that has scattered will gather the thorns from our road. The Fool's Prayer. The royal feast was done; the king The jester doffed his cap and bells, He bowed his head and bent his knee "No pity, Lord, could change the heart ""Tis not by guilt the onward sweep We hold the earth from Heaven away. "The ill-timed truth we might have kept, Who knows how grandly it had rung! The room was hushed; in silence rose Marit and I. Marit at the brookside sitting, rosy, dimpled, merry-eyed, Like a shining snake it quivered in the tide, and shrunk and swelled. And she dipped her dainty fingers deftly in the chilly brook; O'er her brow and cheeks the dew-drops glistening rolled and fell apace. Breathless sat I, safely hidden in the tree-top dense and green; If you think it was the first time that in this sequestered dell And two anxious wrens were flitting round about me twittering, And a breath came floating upward as if some one gently sighed, Tremblingly her lips were moving, and a cloud rose on her brow, Crash the branch went, and, bewildered, down I tumbled on the ground. Up then sprang the little Marit with a cry of wild alarm, And she gazed as if she dreaded I had come to do her harm. Swift she darted through the bushes, and with stupid wonder mute Stood I staring blankly after ere I started in pursuit. And a merry chase I gave her through the underbush and copse: Over fallen trunks and boulders on she fled with skips and hops; Glancing sharply o'er her shoulder when she heard my footsteps sound, Dashing on with reckless terror like a deer before the hound. Hot with zeal I broke my pathway where the clustered boughs were dense, For I wanted to assure her I intended no offence; And at last, exhausted, fell she on the green-sward quivering, Sobbing, panting, pleading, weeping, like a wild, unreasoning thing. Marit," said I, stooping down, "I hardly see why you should cry: There is scarce in all the parish such a harmless lad as I; 66 And you know I always liked you "-here my voice was soft and low. "O," she said, her sobs subduing, with an air demure and meek— 66 catch. "Let me look; my kiss is healing. May I cure the kitten's scratch ?" And I kissed the burning blushes on her cheeks in heedless glee, Though the marks of Pussy's scratches were invisible to me. "O thou poor, thou pretty darling!" cried I, frantic with delight, While she gazed upon me smiling, yet with eyes that tears made bright, "Let thy beauty be thy dower, and be mine to have and hold; For a face as sweet as thou hast needs, in sooth, no frame of gold." Scandal. A woman to a holy father went; And chiefest in her catalogue of sin, And that to do fit penance she must go Scatter its seeds, and that when this was done Feeling right glad she had escaped so well, The woman said: "But, father, 'twould be vain The winds have scattered them both far and wide The Charming Woman. So Miss Myrtle is going to marry? What a number of hearts she will break! There's Lord George and Tom Brown and Sir Harry, "Tis a match that we all must approve, Let the gossips say all that they can! For indeed she's a charming woman, And he's a most fortunate man. Yes, indeed, she's a charming woman, And she reads both Latin and Greek; And I'm told that she solved a problem In Euclid, before she could speak! Had she been but a daughter of mine, I'd have taught her to hem and to sew, P |