cipal, although a man but little inclined to look upon the angel side of such unprepossessing humanity as Mrs. Walker's Betsey, felt too strong a sense of justice not to make an affecting appeal to the children. The result was, she was voted into the school, money and clothing given her. She bore her honors meekly, and the change from Mrs. Walker's Betsey to Lizzie Hamlin was soon apparent. She is now teaching the brothers and sisters of the boys and girls who ten years ago voted her a nuisance."
UT the broidery-frame away,
For my sewing is all done:
The last thread is used to-day,
And I need not join it on.
Though the clock stands at the noon,
Sister, help me to the bed,
And stand near me, dearest-sweet,
Do not shrink nor be afraid,
Blushing with a sudden heat!
No one standeth in the street?
By God's love I go to meet,
Love I thee with love complete.
Lean thy face down; drop it in
These two hands, that I may hold
'Twixt their palms thy cheek and chin,
Stroking back the curls of gold:
'Tis a fair, fair face, in sooth-
Larger eyes and redder mouth
Than mine were in my first youth.
Thou art younger by seven years-
Ah! so bashful at my gaze,
That the lashes, hung with tears,
Grow too heavy to upraise?
I would wound thee by no touch
Which thy shyness feels as such.
Dost thou mind me, dear, so much?
Have I not been nigh a mother
To thy sweetness-tell me, dear?
Have we not loved one another
Tenderly from year to year,
Since our dying mother mild
Said, with accents undefiled,
"Child, be mother to this child!"
Mother, mother, up in heaven,
Stand up on the jasper sea,
And be witness I have given
All the gifts required of me
Hope that bless'd me, bliss that crown'd.
Love that left me with a wound,
Life itself that turneth round!
Little sister, thou art pale!
Ah! I have a wandering brainBut I lose that fever-bale,
And my thoughts grow calm again.
Lean down closer-closer still!
I have words thine ear to fill,
And would kiss thee at my will.
Dear, I heard thee in the spring,
Thee and Robert-through the trees-
When we all went gathering
Boughs of May-bloom for the bees.
Do not start so! think instead
How the sunshine overhead
Seem'd to trickle through the shade.
What a day it was, that day!
Hills and vales did openly
Seem to heave and throb away
At the sight of the great sky:
And the silence, as it stood
In the glory's golden flood,
Audibly did bud, and bud.
Through the winding hedgerows green,
How we wander'd, I and you,
With the bowery tops shut in,
And the gates that showed the view!
How we talked there! thrushes soft
Sang our praises out, or oft
Bleatings took them, from the croft:
Till the pleasure, grown too strong,
Left me muter evermore,
And, the winding road being long,
I walked out of sight, before.
And so, wrapped in musings fond,
Issued past the wayside pond
On the meadow lands beyond.
I sat down beneath the beech
Which leans over to the lane,
And the far sound of your speech
Did not promise any pain;
And I blessed you full and free,
With a smile stoop'd tenderly
O'er the May-flowers on my knee.
But the sound grew into word
As the speakers drew more near-
Sweet, forgive me that I heard
What you wished me not to hear.
Do not weep so, do not shake;
Oh, I heard thee, Bertha, make
Good, true answers for my sake.
Yes, and he too! let him stand
In thy thoughts untouch'd by blame. Could he help it if my hand
He had claim'd with hasty claim?
That was wrong, perhaps—but then
Such things be-and will again :
Women cannot judge for men.
Had he seen thee when he swore
He would love but me alone?
Thou wast absent, sent before
To our kin in Sidmouth town.
When he saw thee who art best,
Past compare and loveliest,
He but judged thee as the rest.
Could we blame him with grave words,
Thou and I, dear, if we might?
Thy brown eyes have looks like birds
Flying straightway to the light:
Mine are older. Hush!-look out-
Up the street! is none without?
How the poplar swings about!
And that hour-beneath the beech,
When I listened in a dream,
And he said, in his deep speech,
That he owed me all esteem—
Each word swam in on my brain
With a dim, dilating pain,
Till it burst with that last strain.
I fell flooded with a dark,
In the silence of a swoon.
When I rose, still cold and stark,
There was night; I saw the moon ;
And the stars, each in its place,
And the May-blooms on the grass,
Seemed to wonder what I was.
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