THE HOLLY-TREE. ROBERT SOUTHEY. O READER, hast thou ever stood to see The eye that contemplates it well perceives Order'd by an Intelligence so wise, As might confound the atheist's sophistries. Below a circling fence its leaves are seen No grazing cattle through their prickly round But, as they grow where nothing is to fear, Smooth and unarm'd the pointless leaves appear. I love to view these things with curious eyes, And in this wisdom of the holly-tree Wherewith perchance to make a pleasant rhyme, Thus, though abroad perchance I might appear To those who on my leisure would intrude, Gentle at home amid my friends I'd be, And should my youth, as youth is apt, I know, All vain asperities I day by day Would wear away, Till the smooth temper of my age should be HAPPY OLD AGE. And as when all the summer trees are seen The holly-leaves a sober hue display But, when the bare and wint'ry woods we sec, So serious should my youth appear among So would I seem amid the young and gay That in my age as cheerful I might be 17 HAPPY OLD AGE. R. SOUTHEY. "You are old, Father William," the young man cried; "The few locks that are left you are gray; You are hale, Father William, a hearty old man, Now, tell me the reason, I pray." "In the days of my youth," Father William replied, "I remember'd that youth would fly fast, And abused not my health and my vigour at first, That I never might need them at last." "You are old, Father William," the young man cried, "And pleasures with youth pass away; And yet you lament not the days that are gone, "In the days of my youth," Father William replied, "I remember'd that youth could not last; I thought of the future, whatever I did, "You are old, Father William," the young man cried, "And life must be hastening away; You are cheerful, and love to converse upon death! Now, tell me the reason, I pray." “I am cheerful, young man," Father William replied; "Let the cause thy attention engage; In the days of my youth I remembered my God!! THE MOTHER OF THE MACHABEES. J. J. CALLANAN. THAT mother viewed the scene of blood; "By all my love, my son," she said, "The breast that nursed, the womb that bore, The unsleeping care that watched thee, fed, 'Till manhood's years required no more: By all I've wept and prayed for thee, Now, now, be firm, and pity me! "Look, I beseech thee, on yon heaven, THE DYING CHIEF. "So shalt thou not this tyrant fear, Then go, my son, nor heed thy life: Like arrow from the bended bow He sprang upon the bloody pile; 19 THE DYING CHIEF. MRS. MACLEAN. (L. E. L.) THE stars looked down on the battle-plain He had folded round his gallant breast Proudly he lay on his broken shield While, dark with the blood of his last red field, There were hands which came to bind his wound, And "Away!" he cried; "your aid is vain, "I have seen the Moorish banners wave "Leave me to die with the free and the brave, BRUCE TO HIS MEN AT BANNOCKBURN. ROBERT BURNS. Scors, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Now's the day, and now's the hour, Wha will be a traitor-knave? Wha for Scotland's king and law |