Oh! never may the moon again disclose me such a sight Hyenas, cats, blood-loving bats, and apes with hateful stare, All phantasies and images that flit in midnight gloomsHags, goblins, demons, lemures, have made me all aghast,But nothing like that GRIMLY ONE who stood beside the mast! His cheek was black, his brow was black, his eyes and hair as dark: His hand was black, and where it touched, it left a sable mark; His throat was black, his vest the same, and when I looked beneath, His breast was black-all, all was black, except his grinning teeth. His sooty crew were like in hue, as black as Afric slaves! Oh, horror! e'en the ship was black that plowed the inky waves! "Alas!" I cried, " for love of truth and blessed mercy's sake, Where am I? in what dreadful ship? upon what dreadful lake? What shape is that, so very grim, and black as any coal? My happy days, when I was yet a little sinless child,— Loud laughed that sable mariner, and loudly in return "Our skins," said he, " are black ye see, because we carry coal; You'll find your mother sure enough, and see your native fields, For this here ship has picked you up-the Mary Ann of Shields!" A COCKNEY WAIL. The great Pacific journey I have done; In many a town and tent I've found a lodgment. I think I've traveled to the setting sun, And very nearly reached the day of judgment! Like Launcelot, in the quest of Holy Grail, From Western Beersheba to Yankee Dan I've been a seeker; yet I sadly fail To find the genuine type American. Where is this object of my youthful wonder, The more the crowd of friends around me thicken To Dixen, Sala, Trollope-not to me? No one accosts me with the words: "Wa'll strange !* Greets me with "festive cuss," or shouts "old hos" No grim six-shooter threatens me with danger, If I don't quickly “Pass the butter, boss.” I, too, have sat, like every other fellow, In many a railway, omnibus, street car; Gone are the Yankees of my early reading! Don't come out here, but stay at home in London, SHELTER.-WILLIAM J. LEE. There's mony a wee sweet lily sair nipped wi' the cold; The bending heather i' the field, the primrose down the brae, The hawthorn, fragrant i' the glen, and ilka milk-white slae, He sifts the biting frost upon, and wings the blast wi' cold; But gently shields His lammies a' within His safe, warm fold. When hawk, wi' dark wings, swoopeth adown the simmer sky, The mither ca's, and frichtened brood aneath her wingies fly; When shadows, swooping, fa' on thee--warld sorrows-trouble stings He ca's for limpin', helpless weans to run aneath His wings! The world hae, whiles, its dangers, and wingéd blasts o' care, Yet the Father flecketh mony spots wi' hopings, bright and fair. We gang to find a city where we hope wi' joy to sing: And our pilgrim heads are sheltered aneath His feathery wing. 'Mang mists we sometimes stimble, and hunter's darts fa' fast, The nicht comes down upon us, and nae starlight cheers the blast! But nae sparrow e'er escapeth His watchfu', kindly ee; and me. Wha's on before wi' bleeding feet, atween me and the storm? My shield by day, my guide by night-that meek and weary form? Each burden that my heart doth bend, He first the burden bore; And His guid hand will lead me safe the last dark river o'er! The bairn hath loving mither, and wee birdies leafy nest; The calms are cradles of the storms, and ocean waves have rest! We dinna ken how soon may fa' upon our hearts sae sair, Down frae the gowden gate the cry, “Ye need nae journey mair!" So gird the loins, and brichten up the sword, and forward gang! We'll meet wi' mony trials, but it winna be for lang. And as shepherd leads his lammies, and ca's them a' by name, Our Friend will open wide the gate, and bid us a' come hame! A SCENE FROM DOUGLAS.-REV. JOHN HOMB. CHARACTERS.-Norval, Glenalvon, and Lord Randolph. Norv. Glen. Thou talk'st it well; no leader of our host Norv. If I should e'er acquire a leader's name, My speech will be less ardent. Novelty Now prompts my tongue, and youthful admiration Of praise pertaining to the great in arms. Glen. You wrong yourself, brave sir; your martial deeds Have ranked you with the great. But mark me, Norval, Lord Randolph's favor now exalts your youth Above his veterans of famous service. Let me, who know these soldiers, counsel you. Else they will hardly brook your late-sprung power, Norv. Sir, I have been accustomed, all my days, Therefore I thank Glenal von for his counsel, Glen. Glen. If thus you swell, and frown at high-born men, Glen. Why yes, if you presume To bend on soldiers those disdainful eyes As if you took the measure of their minds, Norv. Hast thou no fears for thy presumptuous self? Norv. Didst thou not hear? Glen. Unwillingly I did; a nobler foe Had not been questioned thus; but such as thou- Glen. Norv. Norval. And who is Norval in Glenalvon's eyes? So I am; Glen. A peasant's son, a wandering beggar boy; Norv. False as thou art, dost thou suspect my truth? I have no tongue to rail. The humble Norval Did I not fear to freeze thy shallow valor, And make thee sink too soon beneath my sword, I'd tell thee-what thou art. I know thee well. Glen. Dost thou not know Glenalvon-born to command Ten thousand slaves like thee? Norv. Villain, no more! Draw, and defend thy life. I did design To have defied thee in another cause; But heaven accelerates its vengeance on thee. Now for my own and Lady Randolph's wrongs! Enter LORD RANDOLPH. Lord R. Hold! I command you both! the man that stirs Makes me his foe. Norv. Another voice than thine That threat had vainly sounded, noble Randolph. Glen. Hear him, my lord; he's wondrous condescending! Mark the humility of shepherd Norval! Norv. Now you may scoff in safety. Speak not thus, Taunting each other, but unfold to me The cause of quarrel; then I judge betwixt you. Norv. Nay, my good lord, though I revere you much, My cause I plead not, nor demand your judgment. I blush to speak; and will not, cannot speak The opprobrious words that I from him have borne. To the liege lord of my dear native land I owe a subject's homage; but even him |