A CHILD'S FANCY.

I HAVE built a rushen boat,
Trimmed it with a silken sail,
Launched it on the quiet pool,
Fringed by willow shadows cool,
Safe from the storm and gale.

Freighted it with precious things,With the daisy's silver sheen, Kingcups, with their golden hue,

Violets of tenderest blue,

Beetles, in their jewelled coats,
Row it o'er the mimic sea;

And a golden dragon-fly,

With sapphire crest and diamond eye,

Shall my pilot be.

Evening now o'er field and glen

Slowly draws her mantle damp;

But a glow-worm, if 'tis dark,
On the prow, a glittering spark,
Lights his tiny lamp.

And this plumy butterfly
Shall my careful captain be;
He shall traffic with my store,
Bringing from a foreign shore
Treasures back to me.

.

I have heard my mother say,
When we sought her grace to win,
"Children, you shall have your will,
All you ask, and further still,
When my ship comes in!"

So, when mine comes back from sea,
All her risk and peril o'er,
I will share it, frank and free;
Many shall be rich with me,
From my treasure-store.

For my mother, berries sweet

Then shall bring my bonny boat;

For my father, fill her hold

With ripe corn, like grains of gold, "Till she scarce can float.

For my brother, acorns, nuts,
As his squirrel's dainty fare;
Graceful heron's plumes shall twine
For thy tresses, sister mine-
These my ship shall bear,

Ah! she strikes on unseen rocks!

Quivers - plunges

then goes down:

Every surging wave doth hold

Blooms of silver or of gold

On its ripples thrown.

Gone her captain; far away

Doth her faithless pilot flee; Only 'mid the waters dark

Gleams once more the glow-worm's spark, Then sinks beneath the sea.

Where are all my treasures gone?
Woe is me! for now they sleep-
Silver daisies, violets blue,
Kingcups with their golden hue-
For the hungry deep.

I can build another boat,
Freight it richly as before;
All such simple wealth is free
To my hand, on every lea
Scattered thickly o'er.

But, alas! for those who risk

On the perilous deep

All their gold of hands or heart,
When their riches thus depart,

'Neath the waves to sleep.

Many keep a weary watch

Through the world's incessant din,
Sitting idly on the sands,

With straining eyes and outstretched hands,
To see their ships come in.

Bravely, when they leave the shore,
Do they breast the white waves' foam;
Though the blue sky smile serene,

Many tempests lie between,

And how few come home!

Angels, keeping solemn watch

O'er all wandering barks that roam
On "life's dim, unsounded sea,"
From its shoals and rocks set free,
Guide them safely home!

Frances F. Broderip, (daughter of Tom Hood.)

A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN.

WHAT eyes you have, you wild gazelle o' the plain !

You fierce hind o' the forest! now they flash, Now glow; now in their own dark down-dropped shade

Conceal themselves a moment, as some thought, Too brief to be a feeling, flits across

The April cloudland of your careless soul

There that light laugh- and 'tis full, sun-full day.

Would I could paint you, line by line, ere Time
Touches the gorgeous picture! your ripe mouth,
Your white-arched throat, your statue like to
Saul's

Among his brethren, yet so fitly framed
In such harmonious symmetry, we say,
As of a cedar among common trees,

Never "How tall!" but only "O, how fair!"

Woman, upon whom is laid

Heaven's own sign-manual, Beauty, mock Heaven not!