He passed his hours in peace. I'm grown so deaf, I could not hear.” But while he viewed his wealth increase, “Nay, then,” the spectre stern re While thus along life's dusty road

joined, The beaten track content he trod, “These are unjustifiable yearnings : Old Time, whose haste no mortal spares, If you are lame, and deaf, and blind, Uncalled, unheeded, unawares,

You 've had your three sutficient Brought on his eightieth year.

warnings; Aud now, one night, in musing mood, So come along, no more we 'll part." As all alone he sate,

He said, and touched him with his dart. The unwelcome messenger of Fate And now Old Dodson, turning pale, Once more before him stood.

Yields to his fate, so ends my tale. Half killed with anger and surprise, “So soon returned !" Old Dodson cries. “So soon, d'ye call it!" Death replies; “Surely, my friend, you 're but in jest! ANNA L. BARBAULD.

Since I was here before 'T is six-and-thirty years at least,

(1743 - 1825.] And you are now fourscore."

THE SABBATH OF THE SOUL. “So much the worse," the clown rejoined;

SLEEP, sleep to-day, tormenting cares,
“To spare the aged would be kind: Of earth and folly born;
However, see your search be legal; Ye shall not dim the light that streams
And your authority, – is 't regal?

From this celestial morn.
Else you are come on a fool's errand,
With but a secretary's warrant.

To-morrow will be time enough
Beside, you promised me three warn-

To feel your harsh control; ings,

Ye shall not violate, this day, Which I have looked for nights and

The Sabbath of my soul. mornings; But for that loss of time and ease

Sleep, sleep forever, guilty thoughts; I can recover damages."

Let fires of vengeance die;

And, purged from sin, may I behold “I know," cries Death, “that at the

A God of purity! best I seldom am a welcome guest; But don't be captious, friend, at least: THE DEATH OF THE VIRTUOUS. I little thought you 'd still be able To stump about your farm and stable: Sweet is the scene when virtue dies ! Your years have run to a great length; When sinks a righteous soul to rest, I wish you joy, though, of your strength!" | How mildly beam the closing eyes,

How gently heaves the expiring breast ! “Hold,” says the farmer, “not so fast ! I have been lame these four years past.

So fades a summer cloud away, “And no great wonder,” Death replies : So sinks the gale when storms are o'er, “However, you still keep your eyes; So gently shuts the eye of day, And sure to see one's loves and friends So dies a wave along the shore. For legs and arms would make amends."

"Perhaps," says Dodson, “so it might, Triumphant smiles the vietor brow, But latterly I've lost my sight.”

Fanned by some angel's purplewing ;“ This is a shocking tale, 't is true; Where is, O grave! thy victory now? But still there's comfort left for you : And where, insidious death! thy Each strives your sadness to amuse ;

sting? 1 warrant you hear all the news.” “ There's none,” cries he ; and if there Farewell, conflicting joys and fears, were,

Where light and shade alternate dwell!

My kurtch I put upo' my head, The next line that he read, the tear And dressed mysel' fu' braw;

blindit his e'e; I trow my heart was dough and wae, But the last line that he read, he gart When Jamie gade awa'.

the table flee. Bit weel may the boatie row, And lucky be her part,

“Gar saddle the black horse, gar saddle And lightsome be the lassie's care

the brown; That yields an honest heart.

Gar saddle the swiftest steed e'er rade

frae a town": But lang ere the horse was drawn and

brought to the green, O, bonnie Glenlogie was twa mile his

laue. UNKNOWN.

When he came to Glenfeldy's door, little GLENLOGIE

mirth was there;

Bonnie Jean's mother was tearing her THREESCOKE o' nobles rade up the king's hair. ha',

“Ye're welcome, Glenlogie, ye 're welBut bonnie Glenlogie's the flower o' come," said she, them a';

“Ye're welcome, Glenlogie, your Jeanie Wi' his milk-white steed and his bonnie

to see. black e'e, Glenlogie, dear mither, Glenlogie for Pale and wan was she, when Glenlogie me!”

gaed ben,

But red and rosy grew she, whene'er he “O), haud your tongue, daughter, ye'll she turned awa’ her head, but the smile

sat down; get better than he.” “O, say nae sae, mither, for that canna "O, binna feared, mither, I 'll may be no

was in her e'e, be;

dee." Though Doumlie is richer and greater

than he, Yet if I maun tak him, I'll certainly dee.

UNKNOWN

“Where will I get a bonnie boy, to win

JOHN DAVIDSON. hose and shoon, Will gae to Glenlogie, and come again John Davidson and Tib his wife soon?"

Sat toastin' their taes ae night, “O, here am I a bonnie boy, to win hose When somethin' started on the fluir and shoon,

An' blinked by their sight. Will gae to Glenlogie and come again soon.”

“Guidwife!" quo' John, “did ye see

that mouse?

Whar sorra was the cat?" When he gaed to Glenlogie, 't was “A mouse?” – “Ay, a mouse.” — “Na, “ Wash and go dine";

na, Guidman, 'T was “Wash ye, my pretty boy, wash It wasna a mouse, 't was a rat."

and yo dine." “0, 't was ne'er my father's fashion, and “Oh, oh! Guidwife, to think ye've been it ne'er shall be mine

Sae lang about the house To gar a lady's errand wait till I dine.

An' no to ken a mouse frae a rat!

Yon wasna a rat, but a mouse!” “But there is, Glenlogie, a letter for thee."

“I've see mair mice than you, Guido The first line that he read, a low laugh man, gave he;

An' what think ye o' that?