To-morrow 'ill be of all the year the maddest, merriest day; For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May.

NEW YEAR'S EVE.

If you're waking call me early,-call me early, mother dear;
For I would see the sun rise upon the glad new year :-
It is the last new year that I shall ever see,

Then you may lay me low i' the mould and think no more of

me.

To-night I saw the sun set: he set and left behind

The good old year, the dear old time, and all my peace of mind; And the new year's coming up, mother, but I shall never see The blossom on the blackthorn, the leaf upon the tree.

Last May we made a crown of flowers; we had a merry day; Beneath the hawthorn on the green they made me Queen of May:

And we danced about the May-pole and in the hazel copse, Till Charles's wain came out about the tall white chimney tops.

There's not a flower on all the hills:-the frost is on the

pane;

I only wish to live till the snowdrops come again :

I wish the snow would melt and the sun come out on high :-
I long to see a flower so before the day I die.

The building rook 'll caw from the windy tall elm tree,
And the tufted plover pipe along the fallow lea;
And the swallow 'll come again with summer o'er the wave,-
But I shall lie alone, mother, within the mouldering grave.
Upon the chancel casement, and upon that grave of mine,
In the early, early morning the summer sun'll shine,
Before the red cock crows from the farm upon the hill,
When you are warm asleep, mother, and all the world is still.
When the flowers come again, mother, beneath the wanning
light,

You'll never see me more in the long gray fields at night;
When from the dry, dark wold, the summer airs blow cool
On the oat-grass and the sword-grass, and the bulrush in the
pool.

You'll bury me, my mother, just beneath the hawthorn shade,
And you'll come sometimes and see me where I am lowly laid-

I shall not forget you, mother, I shall hear you when you pass,
With your feet above my head in the long and pleasant grass.
I have been wild and wayward,-but you'll forgive me now;
You'll kiss me, my own mother, upon my cheek and brow—
Nay, nay, you must not weep, nor let your grief be wild;
You shall not fret for me, mother, you have another child.

If I can,—I'll come again, mother, from out my resting-place;
Though you'll not see me, mother, I shall look upon your face,
Though I cannot speak a word, I shall hearken what you say,
And be often, often with
think I'm far away.
when
you

you

Good night!-good night!—when I have said "good night"

for evermore,

And you see me carried out from the threshold of the door, Don't let Effie come to see me till my grave be growing green, She'll be a better child to you than ever I have been.

floor;

She'll find my garden tools upon the granary
Let her take 'em, they are hers; I shall never garden more ;
But tell her, when I'm gone, to train the rosebush that I set
About the parlour window, and the box of mignonette.

Good night, sweet mother :-call me before the day is born,
All night I lie awake, but I fall asleep at morn;
But I would see the sun rise upon the glad new year,-
So, if you're waking, call me,-call me early, mother dear.

CONCLUSION.

I thought to pass away before, and yet alive I am :
And in the fields all around I hear the bleating of the lamb.
How sadly, I remember, rose the morning of the year
To die before the snow-drop came,—and now the violet's here.
O sweet is the new violet, that comes beneath the skies,
And sweeter is the young lamb's voice to me that cannot rise,
And sweet is all the land about, and all the flowers that blow,
And sweeter far is death than life;-to me that long to go.

It seem'd so hard at first, mother, to leave the blessed sun,
And now it seems as hard to stay, and yet His will be done!
But still I think it can't be long before I find release;-
And that good man, the clergyman, has told me words of peace.
O blessings on his kindly voice, and on his silver hair!
And blessings on his whole life long, until he meet me there!

O blessings on his kindly heart, and on his silver head!
A thousand times I blest him, as he knelt beside my bed.
He shewed me all the mercy,-for he taught me all the sin;-
Now, though my lamp was lighted late, there's One will let
me in:

Nor would I now be well,-mother, -again, if that could be,
For my desire is but to pass to Him that died for me.

I did not hear the dog howl,-mother, or the death-watch beat,

There came a sweeter token when the night and morning meet;

But sit beside my bed, mother, and put your hand in mine,
And Effie on the other side, and I will tell the sign.—

All in the wild March morning I heard the angels call;-
It was when the moon was setting, and the dark was over all ;-
The trees began to whisper, and the wind began to roll,
And in the wild March morning I heard them call my soul.
For lying broad awake I thought of you and Effie dear;
I saw you sitting in the house and I no longer here:
With all my strength I prayed for both, and so I felt resign'd,
And up the valley came a swell of music on the wind.

I thought that it was fancy, and I listen'd in my bed,
And then did something speak to me--I know not what was
said,

For great delight and shuddering took hold of all my mind,--And the valley came again the music on the wind.

up

But you were sleeping: and I said, "It's not for them; it's mine!

And if it comes three times, I thought, I take it for a sign."
And once again it came, and close beside the window-bars,
Then seem'd to go right up to Heaven, and die among the stars.

So now I think my time is near. I trust it is. I know
The blessed music went that way my soul will have to go.
And for myself, indeed, I care not if I go to-day;
But, Effie, you must comfort her when I am passed away.-

O look! the sun begins to rise, the heavens are in a glow;
He shines upon a hundred fields, and all of them I know:
And there I move no longer now, and there his light may
shine-

Wild flowers in the valley for other hands than mine.

O sweet and strange it seems to me, that ere this day is done, The voice, that now is speaking, may be beyond the sun:For ever and for ever with those just souls and true

And what is life, that we should moan?-why make we such ado?

For ever and for ever, all in a blessed home

And there to wait a little while till you and Effie come-
To lie within the light of God, as I lie upon your breast-
And the "wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at
rest."
-Tennyson.

ELIZA'S ESCAPE.

THE frosty ground creaked beneath her feet, and she trembled at the sound; every quaking leaf and fluttering shadow sent the blood backward to her heart, and quickened her footsteps. She wondered within herself at the strength that seemed to be come upon her; for she felt the weight of her boy as if it had been a feather, and every flutter of fear seemed to increase the supernatural power that bore her on, while from her pale lips burst forth, in frequent ejaculations, the prayer to a Friend above, "Lord, help; Lord, save me."

If it were your Harry, mother, or your Willie, that were going to be torn from you by a brutal trader to-morrow morning-if you had seen the man, and heard that the papers were signed and delivered, and you had only from twelve o'clock till morning to make good your escape-how fast could you walk? How many miles could you make in those few brief hours, with your darling at your bosom-the little sleepy head on your shoulder-the small soft arms trustingly holding on to your neck?

For the child slept. At first the novelty and alarm kept him waking; but his mother so hurriedly repressed every breath or sound, and so assured him that if he were only still she would certainly save him, that he clung quietly round her neck, only asking, as he found himself sinking to sleep"Mother, I don't need to keep awake, do I?"

"No, my darling; sleep, if you want to."

But, mother, if I do get asleep, you won't let him get

me?"

"No! so may Heaven help me!" said his mother, with a paler cheek, and a brighter light in her large dark eyes.

"You're sure, an't you, mother?"

“Yes, sure!” said the mother, in a voice that startled herself; for it seemed to her to come from a spirit within that was no part of her; and the boy dropped his little weary head on her shoulder, and was soon asleep. How the touch of the child's warm arms, and his gentle breathing, seemed to add fire and spirit to her movements! It seemed to her as if strength poured into her in electric streams, from every gentle touch and movement of the sleeping, confiding child. Sublime is the dominion of the mind over the body, that for a time can make flesh and nerve impregnable, and string the sinews like steel, so that the weak become so mighty.

An hour before sunset, she entered a village by the Ohio river, which lay, like Jordan, between her and the Canaan of liberty on the other side.

It was now early spring, and the river was swollen and turbulent; great cakes of floating ice were swinging heavily to and fro in the turbid waters. Owing to the peculiar form of the shore on the Kentucky side, the land bending far out into the water, the ice had been lodged and detained in great quantities, and the narrow channel which swept round the bend was full of it, piled one cake over another, thus forming a temporary barrier to the descending masses, which lodged and formed a great undulating raft, filling up the whole river, and extending almost to the Kentucky shore.

Eliza stood for a moment contemplating this unfavourable aspect of things, which she saw at once must prevent the usual ferry boat from running, and then turned into a small public-house on the bank to make a few inquiries.

"Take him into this room," said the hostess, opening into a small bed-room where stood a comfortable bed. Eliza laid the weary boy upon it, and held his hands in hers till he was fast asleep. For her there was no rest. As a fire in her bones, the thoughts of the pursuer urged her on; and she gazed with longing eyes on the sullen, surging waters, that lay between her and liberty.

In consequence of all the various delays, it was about threequarters of an hour after Eliza had laid her child to sleep in the village tavern that the pursuing party came riding into the same place. Eliza was standing by the window, looking out in another direction, when Sam's quick eye canght a glimpse of her. Haley and Andy were two yards behind. At this crisis Sam contrived to have his hat blown off, and uttered a loud and characteristic ejaculation, which startled her at