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He never set his benefice to hire,13
Leaving his flock encumber'd in the mire,
And ran to London cogging 14 at St. Paul's,
To seek himself a chauntery for souls, 15
Or with a brotherhood16 to be enrolld;
But dwelt at home, and guarded well his fold,
So that it should not by the wolf miscarry ;
He was a shepherd, and no mercenary.17

Though holy in himself, and virtuous,
He, still, to sinful men was mild and piteous;
Not in his speech imperious or malign;
Bnt in his teaching soothing and benign.
To draw them on to heaven, by reason fair
And good example, was his daily care;-
But were there one perverse and obstinate,-
Were he of lofty or of low estate,
Him would he sharply, with reproof, astound;
A better priest is nowhere to be found.

He waited not on pomp or reverence,
Nor made himself a spicèd18 conscience.
The lore of Christ and his apostles twelve
He taught : but, first, he followed it himselve.

his

13 hire, he did not leave

parish duties to be performed by a curate, that he might go to London to seek a chantry at

St. Paul's. 14 cogging, driving or pressing,

from L. cogo, to force. 15 An endowment to pay a priest for

singing or chanting masses for the souls of some persons dead.

16 brotherhood. To be enrolled in

one of the orders of friars, or brethren (frère, Fr. brother), so as to be maintained in a religious

house, in idleness. 17 no mercenary, not a hireling

who did not care for the sheep. 18 spiced conscience, a drugged

conscience which tried to reconcile duty with selfish interest

AN APRIL DAY.1

All day the low-hung clouds have drop

Their garnered fulness down; All day that soft grey mist hath wrapt

Hill, valley, grove, and town.

There has not been a sound to-day

To break the calm of nature, Nor motion, I might almost say,

Of life, or living creature;

Of waving bough, or warbling bird,

Or cattle faintly lowing;
I could have half believed I heard

The leaves and blossoms growing.

I stood to hear, I love it well,

The rain's continuous soundSmall drops, but thick and fast they fell,

Down straight into the ground.

For leafy thickness is not yet

Earth's naked breast to screen, Though every dripping branch is set With shoots of tender

green.

This piece is finely modernized.

Sure, since I looked at early morn

Those honeysuckle buds
Have swelled to double growth ; that thorn

Hath put forth larger studs."

That lilac's cleaving cones have burst,

The milk-white flowers revealing;
Even now, upon my senses, first,

Methinks, their sweets are stealing.

The very earth, the steamy air,

Is all with fragrance rife;
And grace and beauty everywhere

Are flushing into life.

Down, down they come—those fruitful stores!

Those earth-rejoicing drops !
A momentary deluge pours,

Then thins, decreases, stops.

And ere the dimples on the stream

Have circled out of sight,
Lo! from the west a parting gleam

Breaks forth, of amber light.

But, yet, behold—abrupt and loud,

Comes down the glittering rain;
The farewell of a passing cloud,

The fringes of her train.

2 A fine English word for swelling buils.

3

AUTTIOR UNKNOWN.-Date, Henry VIII.'s reign-1509-1547.

HUNTING SONG.

The hunt is up, the hunt is up,

And it is well nigh day;
And Harry our king is gone hunting,

To bring his deer to bay.1
The east is bright with morning light,

And darkness it is fled;
And the merry horn wakes up

the morn
To leave his idle bed.

The grass

Behold, the skies, with golden dyes,
Are glowing all around;

is

green, and so are the treen? All laughing at the sound.

The horses snort to be at sport,

The dogs are running free,
The woods rejoice at the merry noise,

Of Hey tantara tee ree!

3

The sun is glad to see us clad

All in our lusty green,
And smiles in the sky, as he riseth high,

To see and to be seen.

I to bay, to turn against the dogs,

as they bay or bark at it. 2 treen, old form for trees. It

childr-en, hos-en, brethr-en, cow-en,

contracted into kine. green, the hunting dress. “Lusty"

is, really, tree-en, like Ox-en,

means healthful, joyful.

3

Awake all men, I say again,

Be merry as you may ;
For Harry our king is gone hunting,

To bring the deer to bay.

EDMUND SPENSER.--Born, 1553 ; Died, 1599.

This great poet is best known by his “Fairie Queeno," an allegorical poem, of which only six books out of twelve remain. Sir Philip Sidney got him appointed Irish Secretary, and he obtained a large grant of land in Ireland, but a rebellion breaking out, he had to flee, and died in London, apparently in distress.

WISDOM, TRUE RICHES.

In vain do men
The heavens of their fortune's fault accuse,
Sithể they know best what is the best for them;

For they to each such fortune do diffuset

As they do know each can most aptly use. For not that which men covet most is best,

Nor that thing worst which men do most refuse; But fittest is, that all contented rest With that they hold: each hath his fortune in his breast.

1
accuse, blame Providence for

their bad fortune. 2

sith, since.

3 they, the heavens, that is, God's

providence. * diffuse, pour forth, or scatter.

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