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'Mamma, wont she be hungry there,

'And want some bread to eat?

'And who will give her clothes to wear,

'And keep them clean and neat?

'Papa must go and carry some,

'I'll send her all I've got ;

'And he must bring sweet sister home,

'Mamma, now must he not?'

'No, my dear child, that cannot be ;

But if you're good and true,

'You'll one day go to her, but she

'Can never come to you.

'Let little children come to me, 'Once the good Savior said;

'And in his arms she'll always be,

'And God will give her bread.'

FAIRY LAND.

BY WILLIAM B. WALTER. *

SOMETIMES We wander to the Fairy Land,
Where the soul dances and her wings expand :-
Fair Land-its turf all brightened o'er with flowers,
And dewy shrubbery, and moonlight bowers,
Retreat of glittering Fancy's vagrant powers.
Fair Heaven!—where many colored clouds enfold,
Bright islets floating in the sea of gold!
Proud domes and palaces are shining there,
With ivory columns, gemmed with fire-stained spar!
There wanton Zephyrs dance on budding flowers,
And waft the fragrant leaves in snowy showers ;—
By sunny banks, the silver waters whirl

A wildering music o'er their sands of pearl;
And birds are singing from their star-lit bowers,
To lull the sleeping of the blue eyed Hours!-
Light things are flitting in this world of air;
Gay creatures born of thought, are dwelling there;
The Elfin race, who bathe in dews of morn;

And climb the rainbow of the summer storm,-
Floating about, in thinnest robes of light,

From meteors caught, that shoot along the night.
Crowns, studded o'er with gems, their brows adorn,
Stole from the eyelids of the waking morn!

They wave bright sceptres wrought of moonlight beams,

And spears of crystal, tinged with lightning gleams!
Young naked loves are sporting on the main,
Or glide on clouds along the etherial plain!
Their snowy breasts floating the waves among,
Are kissed by shapes of light, and swim along
In liquid sapphire-with their humid locks
Dropping thick diamonds o'er the mossy rocks!-
The sea green realm, is all with emeralds shining,
With rainbow arches o'er the depths reclining!—
And other skies are deeply rolling under,

With clouds of trembling flame and slumbering
thunder!

And minstrels blow their horns of tulip flowers!
In echoes softly, from their air-borne towers,
Floats back the music, with a dreamy sound,-
A dove-winged presence, hovering around!
Visions of Joy, in sun-robed garments sporting-
Dear Loves, with gay looks in green pathways
courting!

OGILVIE.

BY WILLIAM B. WALTER. *

"Thou lookest from thy towers to-day; yet a few seasons and the blast of the desert comes; it howls in thy empty court and whistles round thy half-worn shield."

THERE is a wail of sorrow spread
Far o'er the waters deep !—
Scotland! we know thy son is dead,
And we with thee would weep.
Oh! there are dreams we look upon-
A presence loved, is past!

It speaks of memories that are gone,
All lovely to the last!

And art thou gone, bright spirit,

To thine eternal place?

Shalt thou no more inherit

The splendors of thy race?
Dost thou no longer smile at fate,
Wandering on earth alone?-

And is the temple desolate,

The shrine and spirit gone?—

Thine was a name to cherish,

Thou gifted one and proud!
Not doomed from earth to perish
With the poor common crowd!
Bright Honor and fair Courtesy,
Last, of a noble line!

The glow of ancient Chivalry,
Great heart! were ever thine.

Thy life, a splendid vision,

That now has passed away!

Majestic, bright, elysian,

The glory of a day!

Oh! brighter than the coronet,
Thy virtues' living rays!—
They beam upon our memories yet,
Son of the winged days!

To realms of silence banished,

Hurled from his burning throne,

The imperial bird is vanished,

And rent his radiant zone !

Still are the lips, all eloquent,

That charmed our raptured earsThe thunder of the firmament!

The music of the spheres!

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