gather,

When our child's first accents flow, Wilt thou teach her to say “Father!"

Though his care she must forego? When her little hands shall press thee,

When her lip to thine is pressed, Think of him whose prayer shall bless thee,

Think of him thy love had blessed! Should her lineaments resemble

Those thou never more mayst see, Then thy heart will softly tremble With a pulse yet true to me. All my faults perchance thou knowest,

All my madness none can know; All my hopes, where'er thou goest, Whither, -yet with thee they go. Every feeling hath been shaken; Pride, which not a world could bow,

And as Time's car incessant runs,
And fortune fills my store,
I want of daughters and of sons
From eight to half a score.
I want (alas! can mortal dare
Such bliss on earth to crave?)
That all the girls be chaste and fair,
The boys all wise and brave.

I want a warm and faithful friend,
To cheer the adverse hour;
Who ne'er to flattery will descend,
Nor bend the knee to power, ·
A friend to chide me when I'm wrong,
My inmost soul to see;

And that my friendship prove as strong

For him as his for me.

I want the seals of power and place,
The ensigns of command;
Charged by the People's unbought
grace

To rule my native land.

His autograph upon this page.
Higher than that eagle soars,
Wider than that thunder roars,
His fame shall through the world be
sounding,

And o'er the waves of time be bounding.

Though thousands as obscure as I, Cling to his skirts, he still will fly And leap to immortality.

If by his name I write my own, He'll take me where I am not known, The cold salute will meet my ear, "Pray, stranger, how did you come here ?"

DANIEL WEBSTER.

A KING lived long ago,

In the morning of the world, When Earth was nigher Heaven than now:

And the King's locks curled Disparting o'er a forehead full As the milk-white space 'twixt horn and horn

Of some sacrificial bull.

Only calm as a babe new-born: For he was got to a sleepy mood,

So safe from all decrepitude, Age with its bane so sure gone by, (The gods so loved him while he dreamed,;

That, having lived thus long, there seemed

No need the King should ever die.

Among the rocks his city was; Before his palace, in the sun, He sat to see his people pass,

And judge them every one From its threshold of smooth stone.

ROBERT BROWNING.

THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB.

THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,

And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;

And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.

Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green,

That host with their banners at sunset were seen:

Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown,

That host on the morrow lay withered and strewn.

For the Angel of Death spread his wing on the blast,

And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;

And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,

And their hearts but once heaved, and forever grew still.

And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,

But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride;

And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,

And cold as the spray of the rockbeating surf.

And there lay the rider distorted and pale,

With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail;

And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,

The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.

And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,

And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;

And the might of the Gentle, unsmote by the sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!

BYRON.