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The people's shouts were long and loud;
"While others laugh and shout with joy?"
"What is an orphan boy?" I cried,
As in her face I looked, and smiled;
O lady—I have learnt too well
Oh! were I by your bounty fed—
THE FALCON'S REWARD.
BENEATH the fiery cope of middle day
The youthful Prince his train left all behind, With eager ken gazed round him every way, If springing well he anywhere might find.
His favourite falcon, from long aëry flight
Returning, and from quarry struck at last, Told of the chase, which with its keen delight Had thus allured him on so far and fast,
Till gladly he had welcomed in his drought
The dullest pool that gathered in the rain ; But such, in fount of clearer wave, he sought Long through that land of barrenness in vain.
What pleasure when, slow stealing o'er a rock,
A golden goblet from his saddle-bow
He loosed, and from his steed alighted down To wait until that fountain, trickling slow, Shall in the end his golden goblet crown.
When set beside the promise of that draught,
The brimming vessel to his lips at last
He raised, when, lo! the falcon on his hand, With beak's and pinion's sudden impulse, cast That cup's rare treasure all upon the sand.
Long was it ere that fountain, pulsing slow, Caused once again that chalice to run o'er; When, thinking no like hindrance now to know, He raised it to his parched lips once more :
Once more, as if to cross his purpose bent,
The watchful bird-as if on this one thing, That drink he should not of that stream, intentStruck from his hand the cup with eager wing.
But when this new defeat his purpose found,
And he, twice baffled, did meantime again
"Coiled in these waters at their fountain-head,
Dropped from his hand the cup :-one look he cast
Then homeward rode in silence many a mile;
Of that his falcon's end, what man can know?
I said, "Such chalices the world fills up
For us, and bright and without bale they seemA sparkling potion in a jewelled cup,
Nor know we drawn from what infected stream.
"Our spirit's thirst they promise to assuage, And we those cups unto our death had quaffed, If Heaven did not in dearest love engage
To dash the chalice down, and mar the draught.
"Alas for us, if we that love are fain
With wrath and blind impatience to repay, Which nothing but our weakness doth restrain, As he repaid his faithful bird that day;
If an indignant eye we lift above,
To lose some sparkling goblet ill content, Which, but for that keen watchfulness of love, Swift certain poison through our veins had sent."
BY H. G. BELL.
I HAD an uncle once-a man
Of threescore years and three ;—
He was a man of gloomy mood,
His conscience with him wrought;
There was not one in all the house
I was an orphan and alone,-
And in my uncle's room there hung
The picture of my
The words upon the book;
For with a sidelong glance I marked My uncle's fearful look.
And saw how all his quivering frame
A silent terror o'er me stole,
His lips were white as bone-his eyes
He gazed on me, but 'twas the gaze
Then suddenly he turned him round,
That hung before my mother's face ;—
Perchance my eyes might fail,
But ne'er before that face to me
"Come hither, boy!" my uncle said,I started at the sound;
'Twas choked and stifled in his throat, And hardly utterance found :"Come hither, boy!" then fearfully He cast his eyes around.