DAFFODILS1

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host of golden daffodils,
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of the bay.
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced, but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee, –
A poet could not but be gay

In such a jocund company.

I gazed, and gazed, but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought.

For oft, when on my couch I lie,

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils. - WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

1 See note on page 259.

HOME-THOUGHTS FROM ABROAD

Oh, to be in England,

Now that April's there!

And whoever wakes in England

Sees, some morning, unaware,

That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough,
In England - now!

And after April, when May follows,

And the white-throat builds, and all the swallows-
Hark! where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge
Leans to the field, and scatters on the clover
Blossoms and dewdrops, - at the bent spray's edge, -
That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,
Lest you should think he never could re-capture

The first fine careless rapture!

And though the fields look rough with hoary dew,
All will be gay when noontide wakes anew

The buttercups, the little children's dower,

Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!

-

- ROBERT BROWNING.

When Southwest Wind, Esquire, entered the Treasure Valley and destroyed the property of Gluck's cruel brothers, he vowed that it should be his last visit, and he was as good as his word. What was worse, he had so much influence with his relations, the West Winds in general, and used it so effectually, that they all adopted a similar line of conduct.

No rain fell in the valley from one year's end to the other. Though everything remained green and flourishing in the plains below, the inheritance of the three brothers was a desert. What had once been the richest soil in the kingdom became a shifting heap of red sand; and the brothers, unable longer to contend with the adverse skies, abandoned their valueless estates in despair, to seek some means of gaining a livelihood among the cities and people of the plains. All their money was gone, and they had 1 See note on page 259.

2 Find the definition and pronunciation of these words in the vocabulary.

nothing left but some curious, old-fashioned pieces of gold plate.

66

Suppose we turn goldsmiths," said Schwartz to Hans as they entered the large city. "It is a good trade; we can put a great deal of copper into the gold without any one's finding it out."

The thought was agreed to be a very good one; they hired a furnace and turned goldsmiths. But two slight circumstances affected their trade: the first, that people did not approve of the coppered gold; the second, that the two elder brothers, whenever they sold anything, used to leave little Gluck to mind the furnace, and go out and spend money for their own pleasure.

So they melted all their gold without making money enough to buy more, and were at last reduced to one large drinking mug which an uncle of his had given to little Gluck, and which he was fond of and would not have parted with for the world, though he never drank anything out of it but milk and water.

The mug was a very odd mug to look at. The handle was formed of two wreaths of flowing golden hair, so finely spun that it looked more like silk than metal, and these wreaths descended into and mixed with a beard of the same exquisite workmanship, which surrounded and decorated a very fierce little face of the reddest gold imaginable, right in front of the mug, with a pair of eyes in it which seemed to command its whole circumference. It

was impossible to drink out of the mug without being subjected to an intense gaze out of the side of these eyes. When it came to the mug's turn to be made into spoons, it half broke poor little Gluck's heart; but the brothers only laughed at him, tossed the mug into the melting-pot, and went to the inn, leaving him, as usual, to pour the gold into bars when it was ready.

When they were gone, Gluck took a farewell look at his old friend in the melting-pot. The flowing hair was all gone; nothing remained but the red nose and the sparkling eyes, which looked more malicious than ever. "And no wonder," thought Gluck, "after being treated in that way." He sauntered disconsolately to the window and set himself down to catch the fresh evening air and escape the hot breath of the furnace. Now this window commanded a direct view of the range of mountains which overhung the Treasure Valley, and more especially the peak from which fell the Golden River.

It was just at the close of the day, and when Gluck sat down at the window he saw the rocks of the mountain tops all crimson and purple with the sunset. There were bright tongues of fiery cloud burning and quivering above them; and the river, brighter than all, fell in a waving column of pure gold from precipice to precipice, with the double arch of a broad purple rainbow stretched across it, flushing and fading alternately in the wreaths of

spray.