Billeder på siden
PDF
ePub
[ocr errors]

Who, from the tribes of men,
Selected thee to feel his chastening rod-
Depart! O leper! and forget not God!"

And he went forth - alone! not one of all
The many whom he loved, nor she whose name
Was woven in the fibers of the heart

Breaking within him now, to come and speak
Comfort unto him. Yea, he went his way,
Sick and heart-broken, and alone · to die!
For God had cursed the leper!

-

It was noon,

And Helon knelt beside a stagnant pool
In the lone wilderness, and bathed his brow,
Hot with the burning leprosy, and touched
The loathsome water to his fevered lips,
Praying that he might be so blest --- to die!
Footsteps approached, and with no strength to fle
He drew the covering closer on his lip,
Crying, "Uuclean! unclean!" and in the folds
Of the coarse sackcloth shrouding up his face,
He fell upon the earth till they should pass.
Nearer the stranger came, and bending o'er
The leper's prostrate form, pronounced his name
"Helon!" The voice was like the master-tone
Of a rich instrument- most strangely sweet;
And the dull pulses of disease awoke,
And for a moment beat beneath the hot
And leprous scales with a restoring thrill.
"Helon! arise!" and he forgot his curse,
And rose and stood before him.

[ocr errors]

Love and awe

Mingled in the regard of Helon's eye,
As he beheld the stranger. He was not
In costly raiment clad, nor on his brow
The symbol of a princely lineage wore;
No followers at his back, nor in his hand
Buckler, or sword, or spear yet in his mien
Command sat throned serene, and if he smiled,
A kingly condescension graced his lips,
The lion would have crouched to in his lair.
His garb was simple, and his sandals worn;
His stature modeled with a perfect grace;

His countenance, the impress of a God,
Touched with the open innocence of a child;
His eye was blue and calm, as is the sky
In the serenest noon; his hair, unshorn,
Fell to his shoulders; and his curling beard
The fullness of perfected manhood bore.
He looked on Helon earnestly awhile,

As if his heart was moved; and stooping down,
He took a little water in his hand

And laid it on his brow, and said, "Be clean!"
And lo! the scales fell from him, and his blood
Coursed with delicious coolness through his veins,
And his dry palms grew moist, and on his brow
The dewy softness of an infant's stole.
His leprosy was cleansed, and he fell down
Prostrate at Jesus' feet, and worshiped him.

WILLIS

66

THE CHILD'S FIRST GRIEF

'Он, call my brother back to me,
I cannot play alone!

The summer comes with flower and bee-
Where is my brother gone?

The butterfly is glancing bright

Across the sunbeam's track;

I care not now to chase its flight —
Oh, call my brother back!

The flowers run wild the flowers we sowed

-

Around our garden tree;

Our vine is drooping with its load

Oh, call him back to me!"

"He would not hear my voice, fair child!

He may not come to thee;

The face that once like spring-time smiled,
On earth no more thou 'lt see.

[merged small][ocr errors]

"And has he left his birds and flowers?
And must I call in vain ?

And through the long, long summer hours,
Will he not come again?

And by the brook, and in the glade,
Are all our wanderings o'er?

Oh! while my brother with me played,
Would I had loved him more."

MRS. ITEMANS

THE GIPSY WANDERER.

"T WAS night, and the farmer, his fireside near, O'er a pipe quaffed his ale, stout and old;

The hinds were in bed, when a voice struck his ear"Let me in, I beseech you!" just so ran the prayer · Let me in! I am dying with cold."

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

To his servant, the farmer cried – Sue, move thy feet,
Admit the poor wretch from the storm;

For our chimney will not lose a jot of its heat,
Although the night wanderer may there find a seat,
And beside our wood embers grow warm."

At that instant a gipsy girl, humble in pace,
Bent before him, his pity to crave:

He, starting, exclaimed, "Wicked fiend, quit this place!
A parent's curse light on the whole gipsy race!

They have bowed me almost to the grave!

[ocr errors]

"Good sir, as our tribe passed the churchyard below,
I just paused, the turf graves to survey

I fancied the spot where my mother lies low-
When suddenly came on a thick fall of snow,
And I know not a step of my way."

"This is craft!" cried the farmer, "if I judge aright,

I suspect thy cursed gang may be near;

Thou would'st open the doors to the ruffians of night;
Thy eyes o'er the plunder now rove with delight,
And on me with sly treachery leer!"

With a shriek on the floor the young gipsy girl fell;
"Help," cried Susan, "your child to uprear!
Your long stolen child!-- she remembers you well,
And the terrors and joys in her bosom which sweil,
Are too mighty for nature to bear!"

ANONYMOUS

[ocr errors]

GLENARA.

Он heard you yon pibroch sound sad in the gale,
Where a band cometh slowly with weeping and wail?
"Tis the chief of Glenara laments for his dear;
And her sire and her people are called to her bier.

Glenara came first, with the mourners and shroud;
Her kinsmen they followed, but mourned not aloud;
Their plaids all their bosoms were folded around;
They marched all in silence — they looked to the ground.

In silence they passed over mountain and moor,
To a heath where the oak-tree grew lonely and hoar:
"Now here let us place the gray-stone of her cairn;
Why speak ye no word?" said Glenara the stern.

"And tell me, I charge you, ye clan of my spouse,
Why fold ye your mantles, why cloud ye your brows?"
So spake the rude chieftain: no answer is made,
But each mantle, unfolding, a dagger displayed.

"I dreamed of my lady, I dreamed of her shroud,"
Cried a voice from the kinsmen, all wrathful and loud;
"And empty that shroud and that coffin did seem:
Glenara! Glenara! now read me my dream!”

Oh! pale grew the cheek of that chieftain, I ween ;
When the shroud was unclosed, and no body was seen:
Then a voice from the kinsmen spoke louder in sco--
'T was the youth that had loved the fair Ellen of Lorn.

"I dreamed of my lady, I dreamed of her grief,
I dreamed that her lord was a barbarous chief;
On the rock of the ocean fair Ellen did seem:
Glenara! Glenara! now read me my dream!"

In dust low the traitor has knelt to the ground,
And the desert revealed where his lady was found:
From a rock of the ocean that beauty is borne:
Now joy to the house of fair Ellen of Lorn.

CAMPBELL

CASABIANCA.

"Young Casabianca, a boy about thirteen years old, son to the admira. of the Orient, remained at his post (in the battle of the Nile) after the ship nad taken fire, and all the guns had been abandoned. and perished in the explosion of the vessel, when the flames had reached the powder."

THE boy stood on the burning deck,
Whence all but him had fled;
The flame that lit the battle's wreck
Shone round him o'er the dead.

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

Upon his brow he felt their breath,

And in his waving hair,

And looked from that lone post of death,

In still, yet brave despair.

And shouted but once more alcud,

"My father, must I stay?"

« ForrigeFortsæt »