Odora pointed to a large spreading tree that was stripped of its foliage, and in an under-tone told her brother that she was like it.

He pugnaciously answered her, "I don't know how you are like that great tree, unless it is because you feel so big."

Her dark blue eyes filled with tears as they mildly rested upon him.

"Don't talk so, dear brother, I only meant that we had left all our dear friends in Roselle."

"Well, if that is what you meant, I should think you are more like the leaves under the tree than anything else; that large beech has got large roots, and it is very evident that our roots were not very deep; if they had been, this Champlain wind would not have upset us and blown us so far from our native soil."

Odora laughed more to make her

brother good-natured, than because she was happy, and said, "Oh, you include yourself, you use the plural I see." She leaned over and placed her arms around his neck, and kissed the brow that had been all day frowning upon everything his eyes rested upon, and gently said, "Dear brother, if we are only rooted and grounded in Christ, these changes will lead us to place our affections on that God that changeth not. We shall no doubt be happy in our new home; Mr. Willard looks very pleasantly upon us; he told me this morning that he intended to send us to the best school in the state."

"He will probably send us back to Roselle then," was Alpheus's reply. "He told me this morning, that he designed to send us to the Academy at Mount Hope."

"Well, brother, that is the very

place I have wanted to go to for a long time, and how pleasant it wil be if we can be there together."

66

That if has blighted the hopes of a great many, Odora,-if mother had not taken it into her head to get mar ried, we should have been at home, and if she had sacked him we should not have been lashed into shoe-strings by this north wind, that almost freezes my ears, with no prospect of its abating, for the clouds are as black as night."

"Dear brother, let me repeat to you Shelley's beautiful poem upon the cloud, and the wind wont blow half so hard, nor the clouds look half so black."

"Well, let us have it then; anything to kill time. You will no doubt do it justice, seeing you are a poetess." "I'll do my best, so we will have it.

I.

"I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,

From the seas and the streams;

I bear light shades for the leaves when laid
In their noon-day dreams.

From my wings are shaken the dews that waken
The sweet buds every one,

When rocked to rest on their mother's breast
As she dances about the sun.

I wield the flail of the lashing hail,

And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.

II.

"I sift the snow on the mountains below, And their great pines groan aghast ; And all the night 'tis my pillow white,

While I sleep in the arms of the blast,
Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers,
Lightning my pilot sits.

In a cavern under is fettered the thunder,
It struggles and howls at fits;

Over earth and ocean with gentle motion,
This pilot is guiding me,

Lured by the love of the genii that move.
In the depths of the purple sea:

Over the rils and the crags and the hills,

Over the lakes and plains,

Wherever he dream under mountain or stream, The spirit he loves remains,

And I all the while bask in heaven's blue smile,

Whilst he is dissolving in rain.

III.

"The sanguine sunrise with his meteor eyes
And his burning plumes outspread,
Leaps on the back of my sailing rock.

When the morning star shines dead.

As on the jug of a mountain crag.

Which an earthquake rocks and swings,

An eagle alit one moment may sit

In the light of his golden wings,

And when sunset may breathe from the lit sea be

neath,

Its ar tours of rest and of love,

And crimson pall of eve may fall

From the depth of heaven above,

With wings folded I rest on mine airy nest

As still as a brooding dove.

IV.

"That orbed maiden with white fire laden
Whom mortals call the moon

Gildes limmering 'er my fleece-like floor,
By the midnight breezes strewn;

And whenever the beat of her unseen feet,
Which only the angels hear,

May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof,

The stars peep behind her and peer:

And I laughed to see them whirl and flee,

Like a swarm of golden bees,

When I widen the reat in my wind-built tent.

Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas,

Like strips of the sky fallen through me and high, Are each paved with the moon and these.