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Y daughter, go and pray! See, night is come:
Trembles the misty outline of the hill.
Listen! the distant wheels in darkness glide-
Shakes in the wind its dust-strewn branches still.
The wind among the ruined towers so bare
Longing for peace, for slumber, and for prayer.
And sinful, all young children, with bent knees,
On our behalf, to Him who all things sees. No. 135.
And then they sleep. Oh peaceful cradle-sleep!
Of love, not fear, in happiness expressed !
Its head beneath its wing, and sinks to rest.
Pray thou for all who living tread
Upon this earth of graves;
Among the winds and waves;
Or swiftness of a horse;
Or on their heavenward course.
Pray thou for him who nightly sins
Until the day dawns bright-.
His dance and banquet light;
Their prayers at twilight dim;
God also heareth him.
With crime and misery dwell;
Religion's holy law.
Thy prayer forgiveness draw.
D. M. M.
A REASSURING PROSPECT.
All is light and all is joy.
The dragon-fly on fluttering wings,
The full-blown rose, grown young again,
forth his tuneful strain Within the sun-illumined bush.
He blesses God, who ne'er is hid
In woods that soften every sound,
The moon, all pale in sunlit skies,
The wallflower with the gamesome bee
THERE is an unknown language spoken
By the loud winds that sweep the sky;
And waves on rocks that dash and die;
By the lone star, whose beams wax pale,
In the smooth sea reflected dim.
"Tis breathed by the cool streams at morning,
The quivering cypress' murmured sighs,
Of Thee, oh God! this voice is telling,
Who hast but one name-INFINITE.
The more this vain world's pleasures cloy;
In solitude our only joy.
So when the feeble eyeball fixes
Its sight upon the glorious sun,
D. M. M.
You'll make yourself ill, and then the poor baby will suffer. These women always look to the worst side of everything," continued he, leading Lisle towards the window.
“ The least thing upsets them, and there's no getting them to listen to reason. “But what's the matter?" reiterated Lisle. “What's that man doing here?”
" It's the most unlucky thing," replied Williams, " that ever happened. A twelvemonth ago I gave Martina and Co. a bill for five hundred pounds, making sure that before it became due I should have touched old Patty's legacy, and have been able to take it up. But the time's expired, and my bill is returned dishonoured; and though they are literally now keeping body and soul together by administering a teaspoonful of gruel with brandy in it every quarter of an hour, yet alive she is; and, what's more, perfectly sensible, and as capable of altering her will as ever she was in her life, if she choose to do it. Now, though certainly to be carried to jail, and have an execution in one's house, would be very unpleasant, and would occasion great loss and sacrifice of my property, not to mention the discredit of the thing, yet I would submit to all the inconvenience a thousand times, rather than make another application to you, who have already done so much for me. I'm sure if you had been my brother you could not have been kinder, as Mary and I often say; and there very
few men in the world who have heart enough to do as much for their own relations, much less for those who have no claim on them. But the less our claim, the greater has been your kindness, and the more grateful we are bound to be; and it is for that very reason that I am so distressed about this business. You see, if I am arrested, and old Patty hears of it-and there will be plenty glad enough to tell her—she'll alter her will as sure as my name is Williams; and then how I am ever to discharge my debt to you, I honestly co ess I don't know."
Nothing could be more certain than the imminence of this danger. Mr Lisle was perfectly aware that the only chance of saving his money was by means of Miss Patty's legacy, and he was much disposed to think with Williams, that, if she once became aware of the real state of her nephew's affairs, she would take very good care that her money should not be lavished in the vain attempt to extricate him from difficulties of his own incurring. Now it was that Lisle began to feel the magnitude of his first error; that had led the way to a second ; and now here was a third dilemma, much more potent and pressing than the second. He certainly could pay the seven hundred pounds, as he had told his wife, should the bill become due before the old lady's death, because, as he had no arrears of debt, and his credit was good, he trusted that his own creditors would not be importunatė; but the loss of the whole twelve hundred pounds would be a ruinous blow, and would involve him in embarrassments that he could not see his way
out of at all. What was to be done? He asked Williams