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THE UNNOTICED BOUND.
When, passing southward, I may cross the lino
Between the Arctic and Atlantic oceans, I may not tell- by any test of mine, by any startling signs, or strange commotions
Across my track.
And e'en the icebergs melt their hardened faces;
Some distance back!
I passed the bourne of life in coming to Him;
I cannot tell !
As this cold heart is melted to o’erflowing-
That all is well.
LOSSES.- FRANCES BROWNE.*
Upon the white sea-sand
There sat a pilgrim band,
While evening waned away
From breezy cliff and bay, And the strong tides went out with weary moan.
One spake with quivering lip,
Of a fair freighted ship,
But one had wilder woe,
For a fair face, long ago
There were who mourned their youth
With a most loving ruth,
And one upon the west
Turned an eye that would not rest, For firs-off bills whereon its jovs had been.
* The blind poetosis vf Donegal.
Some talked of vanished gold;
Some of proud honors told;
And one of a green grave
Beside a foreign wave,
But, when their tales were done,
There spake among them one,
“Sad losses have ye met;
But mine is heavier yet ;
“Alas!" these pilgrims said,
“For the living and the dead, For fortune's cruelty, for love's sure cross,
For the wrecks of land and sea,
But, however it came to thee,
THE “COURSE OF LOVE” TOO “SMOOTH.” She came tripping from the church-door, her face flush:d by emotions awakened by the just uttered discourse, and eyes bright with loving expectation. He shivered on the curb-stone, where for an hour he had waited impatiently, with a burning heart fairly palpitating in his throat, and frozen fingers in his pockets. They linked arms and started for the residence of her parents. After a few moments' hesitating silence he said: “Jane, we have known each other long. You must know just how I feel. You must have seen that clear down at the bottom-O Moses !"
He had slipped down on the ice with so much force that his spine was driven up into his hat, and his hat was tipped over his nose, but she was a tender-hearted girl. She did not laugh, but she carefully helped him to his feet, and said:
“You were saying, John, when you slipped, that the foundation-Oh, goodness!"
She slipped herself that time, and saw little stars come down to dance before her eyes, but he pulled her up in haste and went on
“Yes; just as I said, clean down at the bottom of my heart is a fervent love, on which I build my hopes. That love has helped me stand and face-Thunder!”
He was down again, but scrambled up before she could stoop to help him, and she said breathlessly:
“Yes, yes, John. You remember you just said, a love which helped you stand and face thunder. And that you founded your hopes on-This pesky ice!"
There she sat. John grasped the loose part of her sacque, between the shoulders, with one hand, and raised her to her feet, as one would lift a kitten from a pail of water by the back of the neck. Then he said, with increased earnestness :
“Of course, darling; and I have longed for an opportunity to tell my love, and to hear those sweet lips whisperWhoop!"
Somehow John's feet had slipped from under him, and he had come down like a capital V with his head and feet pointirg skyward. She twined her taper fingers in his curling locks and raised him to the stature of a man, set his hat firmly over his eyes with both hands, and cried, in breathJess haste:
“I understand; and let me assure you, John, that if it is in my power to lighten your cares and make lighter your journey through life to-Jerusalem ?”
John stood alone, and said with breathless vehemence:
"Oh, my precious! and thus shall it be my lifelong pleasure to lift you from the rude assaults of earth and surround you with the loving atmosphere of—Texas!"
And there they both sat together. They had nearly reached the gate, and, hand in hand, and with hearts overflowing with the bliss of young love's first confession, they crept along on their knees up to the front steps, and were soon forgetful of their bumps on the softest cushion of the parlor sofa.
THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB.-Byron.
The Assyrian came down jike the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the son When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green,
FORTY TO TWENTY.
A DRAWING-ROOM DRAMA.
It makes a deal of difference in this world