The discords dear to the musician.

No

One shriek of hate would jar all the hymns of heaven :

True Devils with no ear, they howl in tune

With nothing but the Devil!'

""True" indeed!

One of our town, but later by an hour

Here than ourselves, spoke with me on the shore; While you were running down the sands, and made The dimpled flounce of the sea-furbelow flap,

Good man, to please the child. She brought strange

news.

Why were you silent when I spoke to-night?
I had set my heart on your forgiving him
Before you knew. We must forgive the dead.'

'Dead! who is dead?'

'The man your eye pursued.

A little after you had parted with him,

He suddenly dropt dead of heart-disease.'

'Dead? he? of heart-disease? what heart had he

To die of dead!'

'Ah, dearest, if there be

A devil in man, there is an angel too,

And if he did that wrong you charge him with, His angel broke his heart. But your rough voice (You spoke so loud) has roused the child again.

Sleep, little birdie, sleep! will she not sleep
Without her "little birdie?" well then, sleep,
And I will sing you "birdie.”

Saying this,

The woman half turn'd round from him she loved,

Left him one hand, and reaching thro' the night

Her other, found (for it was close beside)

And half embraced the basket cradle-head

With one soft arm, which, like the pliant bough

That moving moves the nest and nestling, sway'd

The cradle, while she sang this baby song.

What does little birdie say

In her nest at peep of day?
Let me fly, says little birdie,

Mother, let me fly away.

Birdie, rest a little longer,

Till the little wings are stronger.

So she rests a little longer,

Then she flies away.

What does little baby say,
In her bed at peep of day?
Baby says, like little birdie,
Let me rise and fly away.

Baby, sleep a little longer,

Till the little limbs are stronger.

If she sleeps a little longer,

Baby too shall fly away.

'She sleeps let us too, let all evil, sleep. He also sleeps-another sleep than ours.

He can do no more wrong: forgive him, dear,

And I shall sleep the sounder!'

Then the man,

'His deeds yet live, the worst is yet to come. Yet let your sleep for this one night be sound: I do forgive him!'

'Thanks, my love,' she said,

'Your own will be the sweeter,' and they slept.

THE GRANDMOTHER.

1.

AND Willy, my eldest-born, is gone, you say, little

Anne?

Ruddy and white, and strong on his legs, he looks like

a man.

And Willy's wife has written: she never was over

wise,

Never the wife for Willy: he wouldn't take my

advice.