"If I come drest like a village maid,
I am but as my fortunes are :
I am a beggar born,” she said,

Play me no tricks," said Lord Ronald,
"For I am yours in word and in deed;
Play me no tricks." Said Lord Ronald,
Your riddle is hard to read."

Oh and proudly stood she up!

Her heart within her did not fail;
She look'd irto Lord Ronald's eves,
And told him all her nurse's tale.

He laughed a laugh of merry scorn;

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He turn'd and kiss'd her where she stood:

If you are not the heiress born,

And I," said he, “the next in blood

If you are not the heiress born,

And I," said he, “the lawful heir,

We two will wed to-morrow morn,
And you shall still be Lady Clare."

HIGHER VIEWS OF THE UNION.

WENDELL PHILLIPS.

I CONFESS the pictures of the mere industrial value of the Union, make me profoundly sad. I look, as beneath the skilfu. pencil, trait after trait leaps to glowing life, and ask at last, Is this all? Where are, the nobler elements of national purpose and life? Is this the whole fruit of ages of toil, sacrifice and thought, those cunning fingers, the overflowing lap, labor vocal on every hillside, and

commerce whitening every sea? All the dower of one haughty, overbearing race, the zeal of the Puritan, the faith of the Quaker, a century of colonial health, and then this large civilization, does it result only in a workshop-fops melted in baths and perfumed, and men grimed wit toil? Raze out, then, the Eagle from our banner, and paint instead Niagara used as a cotton-mill!

O no! not such the picture my glad heart sees when look forward. Once plant deep in the national heart the love of right, let there grow out of it the firm purpose of duty, and then from the higher plane of Christian manhood we can put aside on the right hand and the left these narrow, childish, and mercenary considerations.

"Leave to the soft Campanian

His baths and his perfumes;
Leave to the sordid race of Tyre
Their dyeing vats and looms;
Leave to the sons of Carthage

The rudder and the oar,

Leave to the Greek his marble nymph
And scrolls of wordy lore ;"-

but for us, the children of a purer civilization, the pioneers of a Christian future, it is for us to found a Capitol whose corner-stone is Justice, and whose topstone is Liberty; within the sacred precinct of whose Holy of Holies dwelleth One who is no respecter of persons, but hath made of one blood all nations of the earth to serve him.

Crowding to the shelter of its stately arches, I see old and young, learned and ignorant, rich and poor, native and foreign, Pagan, Christian and Jew, black and white, in one glad, harmonious, triumphant procession !

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Blest and thrice blest the Roman

Who sees Rome's brightest day:

Who sees that long victorious pomp
Wind down the sacred way ;
And through the bellowing Forum,
And round the suppliant's Grove;
Up to the everlasting gates

Of Capitolian Jove!"

PSALM OF LIFE.

LONGFELLOW.

TELL me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream;

For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest !

And the grave is not its goal;
"Dust thou art, to dust returnest,"
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act that each to-morrow
Finds us farther than to-day.

Art is long and time is fleeting,

And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave,

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,

Be not like dumb driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act-act in the living Present!

Heart within, and God o'erhead !

Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time.

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er Life's solemn main;
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

THE MOKANNA'S DEFEAT.

LALLA ROOKH.

BUT other tasks now wait him-tasks that need
All the deep daringness of thought and deed
With which the Dives have gifted him—for mark
Over yon plains, which night had else made dark,
Those lanterns, countless as the winged lights
That spangle India's fields on showery nights-
Far as their formidable gleams they shed,

The mighty tents of the beleaguerer spread
Glimmering along the horizon's dusky line,

And thence in nearer circles, till they shine
Among the founts and groves, o'er which the town
In all its armed magnificence looks down.

Yet, fearless, from his battlements
Mokanna views that multitude of tents;

Nay, smiles to think that, though entoiled, beset,
Not less than myriads dare to front him yet ;-
That friendless, throneless, he thus stands at bay,
Even thus a match for myriads such as they.

"O for a sweep of that dark Angel's wing,
Who brushed the thousands of the Assyrian King
To darkness in a moment, that I might

People hell's chambers with yon host to-night!
But, come what may, let who will grasp the throne,
Caliph or Prophet, Man alike shall groan;
Let who will torture him, Priest-Caliph-King—
Alike this loathsome world of his shall ring

With victims' shrieks and howlings of the slave—
Sounds that shall glad me even within my grave!"
Thus to himself-but to the scanty train

Still left around him, a far different strain :-
"Glorious Defenders of the sacred Crown

I bear from Heaven, whose light nor blood shall drown
Nor shadow of earth eclipse ;-

Warriors, rejoice-the port to which we've passed
O'er Destiny's dark wave, beams out at last!
Victory's our own-'tis written in that Book
Upon whose leaves none but the angels look,
That Islam's sceptre shall beneath the power
Of her great foe, fall broken in that hour,
When the moon's mighty orb, before all eyes,
From Neksheb's Holy Well portentously shall rise !
Now turn and see!"

They turned, and, as he spoke,

A sudden splendor all around them broke,
And they beheld an orb, ample and bright,
Rise from the Holy Well, and cast its light