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النشر الإلكتروني

RECOLLECTION

POETRY.

OF AN ODD CHAPTER FROM A GERMAN NOVEL,

READ MANY YEARS AGO.

A MAIDEN and her father,

A stranger, and their guide, Wandered upon a mountain

That made the heaven its bride:

The morning hours were past and gone,

It was the high noontide.

Rare was the maiden's beauty

Her father, noble, proud;

In silence rode they onward

Toward clime of snow and cloud

While guide and stranger walked beside, In meditation bowed.

Far spreads the right-hand valley,
And mountains meet the skies;
Their forms will clearly ever

At Mem'ry's call arise;
O'erhanging cliffs and jutting rocks
Awaken soul-surprise.

The noontide hour was passing,
Nor was the summit passed;
The guide was all impatient-

For oft the mountain blast,

With awful power, upon those heights White drifts in sudden cast.

It is, it is upon them!

They strive to brave its power-
But no; the beasts are wearied,
And from its fierceness cower;
The trav'lers cannot long withstand
The rigor of the hour!

Wild as the mountain torrent

Adown its rocky pathThe wildest, fiercest animal

No fiercer moments hath

The mountain tempest o'er them roared, Around them spent its wrath.

The lady, faint and weary,

Walked languidly and slow; She walked beside her father,

Who scarce could stand or go

While guide and stranger passed before
Amid the knee-deep snow.

And then the father slowly
Dropped, wearily and faint-
He cannot travel farther;

The maiden's sigh a plaint
Of more than weariness disclosed,
Yet uttered no complaint.

The guide took up, in kindness,
And bore the father on;
The traveller took the maiden,

Though he was weak and wan

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BY P. A. JORDAN.

IN the still night, when the stars Twinkle quaintly through the hours; When the moon beams, dreaming, lay O'er the daylight's threaded way, Comes a vision to my heart

Of a sweet time long ago Thou, O love! its empress art! Thou dost all its joys bestow

In the shaded lane of yore,

With the green leaves bending o'er;
Near a crystal spring, o'ergrown
By deep velvet moss, a stone
Still marks the sacred spot,

Still reveals the chosen place
Where I found so much of joy,
'Neath the droopings of thy face.

There the song-bird sings to-day,

As of yore, his cheerful lay;

There the cricket sings fore'er
Through the summer hours: how dear
Was its plaintive song to thee,

Madeline! forever gone!

""Tis a mystic minstrelsy,
"Tis a sweet and holy song."

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THE purest hour of bliss that nature knows,
Is at the day's decline, when o'er the earth
Is shed a holy glow of calm content,
That mingles with the feelings of the soul
In sweetest union blent. The vesper hymns
Of woodland songsters fill the scented grove,
Where creeping vines o'erarching tree-tops bend
Beneath their purple load of luscious fruit,

While zephyrs with their gentle breath touch light
The dark green foliage of the ancient wood,
And sport with glee amid its lofty boughs.
The murmur of some distant waterfall,
With music low and sweet, steals on the ear,

And, with its magic tones, weaves round the heart
Its strongest spell of dreamy bliss.

The sinking sun, with radiant glory crowned,
Now flings o'er all his lingering lovely rays,
Whose silver feet dance on the ripples of

Yon widening stream; while amber clouds, wreathed in
Fantastic forms, impelled by evening's breath,
Lie cradled on the mountain's rugged brow;

Or, spreading forth their fleecy wings, mount up,
And with the night dissolve in silver dews.
The busy hum of labor now has ceased;
No longer ringing through the forest shades
Is heard the woodman's axe-but all is still;
And, as the lengthened shadows of the even
Are falling o'er the lea-when woodbine sweets
Float gently round-when twilight's curtain falls,
Peace, like a spirit of diviner birth,

Assumes her gentle sway, and, with soft tones

That oft have soothed the troubled heart, breathes forth The holiest influence of her love, and wakes

Fresh feelings of the soul that long to bathe

Their pluméd wings in that vast fount whose waves

Of purity for circling ages past

Have rolled around the throne of God above.

REMINISCENCES OF KILKEE BAY.

BY M. H. FORTUNE.

WHAT of thy billowy roll,

Thou dark Atlantic tide?

What of the bounding, foaming waves

That lash the vessel's side?

Mighty thou art, no doubt, and proud

Sublimely grand in that spray-formed cloud;

Wondrous the phosphorescent gleams

Streaking thy breast with their fiery streams: Glorious thou art, O wondrous sea,

Grand in thy wide immensity!

Fierce in thy stormy bursts, and fair
Glitter thy waves in the noonday glare!

But there is a spot where thy waters glide
Glist'ningly sweet in the summer tide;
Where thy shore-pent waves in their fury roar,
Deep 'mid the caves of a rocky shore;

Or gently ripple in sunny sleep

There, there thou art fairest, O mighty deep!

I see thee there-yet far away

Ripple thy waves in that circling bay!

Whitened and soft is the sparkling sand

Where thou leavest the foam on its sloping strand;

Rugged the shore where the sea-birds flock

Back, in the eve, to their homes of rock;

Green is the verdure high o'er thy foam,

High o'er the steep of the sea-birds' home.
I've seen thee oft in thy hours of pride,

And watched thee gleam in the bright noontide:
But quivering moon-beams may rest in vain
On thy brightened wave in the far-out main;
The land-bird's tremulous wing may glide
Lightly and swift o'er the near-shore tide;
Wooing the eye to thy glorious spray,
Or the foam thou bear'st on thy swell away;
In vain, for far in that circled spot
Tremble the waves I have ne'er forgot;
Glitters thy tide in its brightest glee!
There, there thou art fairest, O mighty sea!

Oft have I sat through the summer day
At the rocky edge of that land-kissed bay;
There, where the tide, with a bending sweep,
Mingles in peace with the far-out deep;
There, where the ledge-nooked cliff is crowned
Verdantly green all the summer round!
And the foaming waves at its rugged base
Circle the rocks in their damp embrace.
There, where the wave in its breaking fall
Bursts through the rocky and creviced wall;
Rushes in pride up the sloping steep,
Then fast recedes to its parent deep:
There have I sat till the evening shade
Mantled the spot where the late sun played;
Till the power of the o'erstrained eye was vain
To pierce through haze on the wide-spread main;
Till I lost the white sail far away,

And the cresting foam on the nearer bay-
And striven in vain through the spell to glide
That bound me fast to its dark'ning side;
Till the deepest shades of the eve came on,
And the faintest gleam from its breast had gone.
And even now, at this distant day,

Memory clings to that far-off bay,

Where still the waters in brightness leap

There, there thou art fairest, O mighty deep!

BLESS THE CHILDREN.

Living all their childish years

Rife with poverty and tears.

BY H. MERRAN PARKE.

BLESS the little children!
Happy little children!

Seeking for the daisies white,
In the morning's early light;
Rushing down the mossy dell,
Where the blue-eyed violets dwell;
Peeping low for berries rare,
While the mists of floating hair
Veil their eager, shining eyes,
Like the wings of butterflies-
Or, as I have seen at even

On the radiant floor of heaven,
Amber clouds all damp with dew
Shut the trembling stars from view.

Love the little children!
Darling little children!

See them, with the good old Rover,
Softly push each other over
On the beds of scented clover
See the little winsome Mary
(One would deem her some lost fairy)
Struggling 'mong the pink-eyed flowers
As the blossoms fall in showers,
Thrown by Charlie-wayward brother-
While she, kind, and loving other,
Lifts her from the nest of posies,
Shakes her to let fall the roses!
See them now beneath the pines,
Wreathed with slender shining vines,
Nestling in the feathery moss,
With the leaves dropt thick across,
And their little rosy feet
Paling in their cool retreat!

Bless the little children!
Angels' care, the children!
All the pleasant summer day
With the breezes hard at play,
Coming now at twilight's dawn
O'er the velvet-covered lawn,
With their little sunburnt hands
Clasping tight the flowery bands,
Wreathed with joy and tender care
For a mother's raven hair,
Little Mary quickly springs
Close into my arms, and clings,
In a weary, soft embrace,
And a little happy face,
Lays a velvet cheek to mine-
Lips like Shiraz' perfumed wine
Lift their richness for a kiss,
Filling all my soul with bliss.

Bless the little children!
God's best gift-the children!
Bless them-not my darlings only-
But the suffering, poor, and lonely;
All the little weary brood
Toiling daily for their food,
Strangers to the pleasant breeze
Dancing in the hemlock trees,
Knowing naught of joy-winged hours
'Mong the dear bee-haunted flowers;
In some hovel, dark and small,
Where the sunbeams never fall,
VOL. XLV.-16

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THE DEW-DROP.

BY "MARY NEAL."

SWEET dew-drop, tell me why

Thou left'st thy home in yon blue sky, Thy lovely Iris-home,

And to this weary world art come?

Bright drop, didst thou not know "Twas filled with anguish, sin, and woe? That naught so pure or fair,

But must its pain and sorrow share?

If thou shouldst make thy home Within the lily's pearly dome,

(And meet, sweet drop, it were, That thou shouldst dwell in home so fair,)

Some one would break the stem,

And rudely shake thee hence, sweet gem; Then tread thee to the earth,

As though thou wert of little worth.

Or if thou chose to dwell Within the violet's azure bell,

(And lovelier home, I ween,

Was never on this dark earth seen.)

Some careless passer-by

Would crush the flower without a sigh,

And thus of every charm

Thee and thy lovely bower disarm.

Or if thou shouldst prefer To deck the waving gossamer, And on its fairy threads

To string thy tiny diamond beads

Some rude blast, sweeping by,

Would rend the thread that floats on high, And scatter down thy pearls,

To be o'ertrod by passing churls.

I had a dew-drop, bright
As ever shone on earthly light,

And shed upon my brow

A lovelier beam than diamond's glow

Hath ever thrown around

The fairest brow that e'er was crowned;
For 'twas the light of Love-
A bright reflection from above.

But, transient as 'twas bright,
It soon was taken from my sight

Up to a heavenly home,

And sparkles now in yon blue dome.

Thus, all things bright and pure Must, while in this dark world, endure Their meed of earthly woes, Until in Heaven they find repose.

Then, dew-drop, tell me why

Thou left'st thy home in yon blue sky,

Thy beauteous Iris-home,

And to this desert earth art come?

Lady, dost thou not know There is a balm for every woe, To draw thy hopes above,

And fix them on a Father's love?

My Father sent me here Only as His love-messenger,

To raise a drooping flower, That would have faded in an hour:

And, though I fall to earth, His power again will call me forth, A brighter, lovelier gem,

To deck his rainbow diadem.

And when I home return, My heart with gratitude will burn To Him who gave me power To call to life so fair a flower.

Oh! often doth He send

Me and my sisters bright, to tend
The flowers that bloom on earth,
And in their hearts His love call forth.

"Twas thus thy dew-drop came, And kindled in thy heart a flame

Of love, that could not dieThen left thee for its native sky.

And thus thy heart, which twined Round things of earth, is now enshrined In yon bright heaven above, Where dwells this blossom of thy love.

Now, lady, know'st thou why

I left my home in yon blue sky,

My lovely Iris-home,

And to this weary world am come?

And seest thou not that He But sent thine angel-one to thee,

To draw thy hopes above, And fix them on a Father's love?

STANZAS.

BY A STRAY WAIP.

WHEN fortune, with relentless frown,
O'erthrows the work of years,

Why sink, sad soul, despairing down
In unavailing tears?
Will tears restore one fallen leaf,
Revive one withered flower,
Or give the careworn breast relief
In that imbittered hour?

Ah no! A squalid usurer,

Grief adds to every woe;

'Mid brooding gloom, sees phantoms stir, And formless perils grow.

Who would a deadly adder press,

Enraptured, to his breast?

Then why, sad soul, the grief caress
That stings thee from thy rest?

Away with grief! In evil hour,
Give not thy sorrow sway;
Let hope, with its angelic power,
Point to a brighter day.

O'er buried joys fresh flow'rets spring,
To cheer the heart bereft;
Then wherefore to dead treasures cling,
While life and hope are left?

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Materials.-Six shades of scarlet 4-thread Berlin wool, six skeins of each shade; three shades of blue green, five skeins of each; five shades of amber, three skeins of each; the lightest to be a bright lemon, the darkest deep claret; two skeins of middle tint violet or lilac wool. Two reels of Evans's boar's head drab cotton, No. 6. Steel crotchet hook, No. 16. 1st row.-Darkest shade of scarlet, this cover must not be worked tightly, but worked so that the cotton and wool shall work easily together; the size when worked will be twenty-seven inches in diameter. Make a chain of 9 stitches, unite the ends, make 3 long under the chain,* 3 chain, 3 more long under the same, repeat from,* 3 times more, 3 chain, unite and draw the wool to the back, cut it off and tie it securely, this must be done at every row.

2d row.-Next shade, 3 long under the 3 chain, 3 chain, 3 more long under the same chain, 3 chain, repeat from, 4 times more.

3d row.-Next shade,* 3 long under the 3 chain between the 6 long stitches, 3 chain, 3 more long under the same chain, 3 chain, de under the next 3 chain, 3 chain, repeat from,* 4 times more.

4th row.-Next shade, 3 long under the 3 chain between the 6 long stitches, 3 chain, 3 more long under the same, 5 chain, de on de, 5 chain, repeat from, 4 times more.

5th row.-Next shade, 3 long under the 3 chain between the 6 long stitches, 5 chain, 3 more long under the same chain, 5 chain, de into the third loop from the last long stitch in last row, 5 chain, de into third loop from de stitch in last row, 5 chain, repeat from beginning, 4 times more.

6th row.-Lightest shade, 3 long under the 3 chain, 5 chain, 3 more long under the same chain, 5 chain, de into centre of 5, 5 chain, de into centre of 5, 5 chain, de into centre of 5, 5 chain, repeat from beginning, 4 times more.

7th row. Commence again with the darkest shade, 3 long under the 5 chain between the 6 long stitches, 5 chain, 3 more long under the same chain, 5 chain, de into centre of 5, 5 chain, de into centre of 5, 5 chain, de into centre of 5, 5 chain, de into centre of 5, 5 chain, repeat from 4 times more.

8th row. Next shade, 3 long under the 5 chain between the 6 long stitches at the point, 5 chain, 3 more long under the same chain, 5 chain, de into centre of 5 chain, 5 chain, de into centre of 5 chain, 3 chain, 3 long under the next 5 chain, 3 chain, 3 more long under the same chain, 3 chain, de into centre of 5 chain, 5 chain, de into centre of 5 chain, 5 chain, repeat from beginning.

9th row. Next shade, 3 long under the 5 chain at the point, 5 chain, 3 more long under the same

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