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Unheeding all except one thought, one hope.
She nears the vessel, beating 'gainst the rocks;
A wave sweeps o'er her, but her heart is stayed
By cries for “help” from hearts half dead with fear;
Upon the tossing slip they watch and pray,
While nearer draws deliverance. One more bound,
The ship is reached, and not a moment lost.
The boat is filled. Again she braves the sea,
This time with precious freight, the while the waves,
Thus cheated of their prey, mouru in revenge.
The moon between the clouds in pity smiles,
The waves are broken into tears above
The boat of life; resisting wind and wave,
They near the land, an unseen Hand directs,
And one Eye, never sleeping, watches all.


Upon the shore the fishers' wives knelt down
And clasped their loved ones, given from the grave.
Young children sobbed their gratitude, and clung
To fathers they had never hoped to kiss;
Strong men were not afraid of tears, which fell
Like April rain, as with their wives and babes
They knelt upon the bleak seashore, to pray.
Up to the sky a glad thanksgiving rose;
The wind ceased wailing, and the stars came out;
Joy filled all hearts, and noble Grace was blessed.
The earth grew brighter, for the angels sang,
In heaven, to God a glad, sweet song of praise.


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There sat two glasses filled to the brim,
On a rich man's table, rim to rim,
One was ruddy and red as blood,
And one as clear as the crystal flood.
Said the glass of wine to the paler brother:
“Let us tell the tales of the past to each other;
I can tell of banquet and revel and mirth,
And the proudest and grandest souls on earth
Fell under my touch as though struck by blight,
Where I wis king, for I ruled in might;
From the heads of kings I have torn the crown,
From the heights of fame I have hurled men down;
I have blasteid many an honored name;
I have taken virtue and given shame;
I hire tempted the youth with a sip, a taste
That has made his future a barren waste.

Greater, far greater than king am I,
Or than any army beneath the sky.
I have made the arm of the driver fail,
And sent the train from the iron rail ;
I have made good ships go down at sea,
And the shrieks of the lost were sweet to me,
For they said, “Behold how great you be!
Fame, strength, wealth, genius before you fall,
For your might and power are over all.:
Ho! ho! pale brother," laughed the wine,
“Can you boast of deeds as great as mine?”
Said the water glass: “I cannot boast
Of a king dethroned or a murdered host;
But I can tell of a heart once sad,
By my crystal drops, made light and glad;
of thirsts I've quenched, of brows I've laved,
Of hands I have cooled, and souls I have saved;
I have leaped through the valley, dashed down the mountain,
Flowed in the river and played in the fountain,
Slept in the sunshine and dropped from the sky,
And everywhere gladdened the landscape and eye.
I have eased the hot forehead of fever and pain;
I have made the parched meadows grow fertile with grain;
I can tell of the powerful wheel of the mill,
That ground out the flour and turned at my will.
I can tell of manhood debased by you,
That I have lifted and crowned anew.
I cheer, I help, I strengthen and aid;
I gladden the heart of man and maid;
I set the chained wine-captive free;.
And all are better for knowing me.”
These are the tales they told each other,
The glass of wine and the paler brother,
As they sat together filled to the brim,
On the rich man's table, rim to rim.


It is not growing like a tree

In bulk, doth make man better be;
Or standing long an oak, (three hundred year,)
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sear:

A lily of a day

Is fairer far in May,
Although it fall and die that night,-

It was the plant and flower of light.
In small proportions we just beauties see;
And in short measures life may perfect be.


An amusing scene occurred in Justice Young's court-room an evening or two since. Two sons of the “ould sod,” full of “chain-lightning” and law, rushed in, and, advanciog to the justice's little law-pulpit at the ai of the court room, both began talking at once.

“One at a time, if you please,” said the judge.

" Judye-yer-honor--will I sphake thin?” said one of the men.

“Silence!” roared his companion. “I am here ! Let me talk! Phwat do you know about law ?"

“Keep still yourself, sir," said the judge. "Let him say what he wants."

“Well, I want me naime aff the paiper. That's phwat I want," said the man. “Off what paper ?" said the judge.

Well, aff the paiper: ye ought to know what paiper. Sure, ye married me, they say."

“To whom?'' asked the judge.

“Some female, sir; and I don't want her, sir. It don't go! and I want me naime aff the paiper.”

“Silence!" roared the friend, bringing his huge fist down upon the little pulpit, just under the judge's nose, with a tremendous thwack. “Silence! I am here. Phwat do you know about law? Sure, yer honor, it was Tim McCloskey's wife that he married--his widdy, I mane. You married thim, yer honor."

“And I was dhrunk at the time, sir. Yis, sir; an' I was not a free aigent; an’I don't know a thing about it, sir-do ye see? I want me naime aff the paiper-I repudiate, sir.”

“Silence! Let me spake. Phwat do you know about law ?” bringing his fist down upon the judge's desk.

“But I was dhrunk: I was not at the time a free aigent."

“Silence! I am here to spake. It does not depind on that at all. It depinds--and there is the whole pint, both in law and equity-it depinds whether was the woman a sole thrader or not at the time this marriage was solemnated. That is the pint, both in law and equity!".

“But I was dhrunk at the time. Divil roawst me if I knowed I was gittin' married. I was not a free aigent. I want the judge to taik me naime aff the paiper. It don't go."

The judge tried to explain to the man that, drunk or sober, he was married to the woman fast enough, and, if he wanted a divorce, he must go to another court.

“Burn me up!” cried the man,“ if I go to another court. Ye married me, and ye can unmarry me. Taik me naime aff the paiper!”

"Silence!" cried the friend, bringing his fist down in close proximity to the judge's nose. “Phwat do you know about law? I admit, judge, that he must go to a higher court; that is (down comes the fist) if the woman can prove (whack) that she was at the time the marriage was solemnated (whack) a regularly ordained sole thrader (whack). On this pint it depinds, both in law and equity.”

“I have had enough of this !" cried the judge: “I cannot divorce you. You are married, and married you must remain, for all I can do."

“Ye won't taik me naime aff the paiper, thin!"
“ It would not mend the matter,” said the judge.
“ Ye won't taik it aff?”
“No: I won't !” fairly yelled the judge.

“Silence!" cried the partner, bringing down his fist, and raising a cloud of dust under the judge's nose. “It depinds whether, at the time, the woman was a regular sole"

“Get out of here,” cried the judge. “I've had about enough of this !” at the same time rising.

“Ye won't taik it aff? Very well, thin, I'll go hoam and devorce myself. I'll fire the thatch! I will—"

Here he glanced toward the front door: his under jaw drooped, he ceased speaking, and in a half-stooping posture he went out of the back door of the office like a shot.

The valiant friend and legal adviser also glanced toward the door, when he too, doubled up and scooted in the footsteps of his illustrious principal.

A look at the door showed it darkened by a woman about six feet in height, and so broad as to fill it almost from side to side.

The judge took a look at this mountain of flesh, doubled up, and was about to take the back track, but thought better of it, and took refuge behind his little law-pulpit.

The mountain advanced, gave utterance in a sort of internal rumble, and then, ainid fire, smoke, and burning lava, belched out,

“ Did I, or did I not see Michael O'Hoolahan sneak out of your back doore ?"

" I believe O'Hoolahan is the name of one of the gentlemen who just went out,” said the judge.

Advancing upon the pulpit, behind which the judge settled luwer and lower, the mountain belched,

“You be-e-lave! You know it was Michael O'Hoolahan! Now, what is all this connivin' in here about? Am I a widdy agin? Did ye taik his naime aff the paiper? Did ye taik it aff?"

“N-no," said the judge.
“Ye didn't? Don't ye desave me!"

“No: I give you my word of honor I didn't, couldn't-I had no right.”

It's well for ye ye didn't. I'll tache him to be rinnin' about connivin' to lave me a lone widdy agin', whin I'm makin’a jintleman of him !"

With this she sailed back to the door, where she turned, and, shaking her fist, thus addressed the tip of the judge's nose, which alone was visible above the little pulpit,

Now, do ye mind that ye lave his naime on the paiper! I want no meddlin' wid a man waust I git him. No more connivin'!"



You know we French stormed Ratisbon:

A mile or so away,
On a little mound, Napoleon

Stood on our storining-day;
With neck out-thrust, you fancy how,

Legs wide, arms locked behind,
As if to balance the prone brow,

Oppressive with its mind.
Just as perhaps he mused, “My plans

That soar, to earth may fall,

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