TIS list'ning fear and dumb amazement all:
When to the startled eye the sudden glance
Appears far south, eruptive through the cloud;
And following slower, in explosion vast,

The thunder raises his tremendous voice.
At first heard solemn o'er the verge of heaven,
The tempest growls; but as it nearer comes
And rolls its awful burden on the wind,
The lightnings flash a larger curve, and more
The noise astounds; till overhead a sheet
Of livid flame discloses wide; then shuts,
And opens wider; shuts and opens still
Expansive, wrapping æther in a blaze:
Follows the loosen'd aggravated roar,
Enlarging, deep'ning, mingling, peal on peal
Crush'd horrible, convulsive heav'n and earth.

THOMSON.

4-2

Upon the stone

His wife sat near him, teasing matted wool. Towards the field

In which the Parish Chapel stood alone,

Girt round with a bare ring of mossy wall,
While half an hour went by, the Priest had sent
Many a long look of wonder; and at last,
Risen from his seat, beside the snow-white ridge
Of carded wool which the old man had piled,
He laid his implements with gentle care,
Each in the other locked; and down the path

Which from his cottage to the Church-yard led,
He took his way, impatient to accost

The Stranger, whom he saw still lingering there.

"T was one well known to him in former days,
A shepherd lad;-who ere his sixteenth year
Had left that calling, tempted to entrust
His expectations to the fickle winds

And perilous waters; with the mariners
A fellow-mariner, and so had fared
Through twenty seasons.

From perils manifold, with some small wealth
Acquired by traffic in the Indian Isles,

THE BROTHERS.

To his paternal home he is returned,

With a determined purpose to resume

The life which he lived there; both for the sake

Of many darling pleasures, and the love

Which to an only Brother he has borne

In all his hardships.

Towards the Church-yard he had turned aside,—

That, as he knew in what particular spot

His family were laid, he thence might learn

If still his brother lived, or to the file

Another grave was added.

By this the Priest, who down the field had come, Unseen by Leonard, at the Church-yard gate

Stopped short.

The Stranger, who had left the grave,
Approached; he recognized the Priest at once,
And, after greetings interchanged, and given
By Leonard to the Vicar as to one
Unknown to him, this dialogue ensued.

PRIEST.

Orphans - Such they were

Yet not while Walter lived:-for, though their parents

Lay buried side by side as now they lie,

The old man was a father to the boys,

Two fathers in one father.

LEONARD.

They loved this good old man?

These boys-I hope

PRIEST.

They did and truly:

But that was what we almost overlooked,

They were such darlings of each other..

From their house the school

Was distant three short miles- and in the time

Of storm and thaw, when every water-course