With all its loftiness, seemed struck with eld.
Even his voice was changed-a languid moan
Taking the place of the clear silver key;

And brain and sense grew faint, as if the light
And very air were steep'd in sluggishness.
He strove with it a while, as manhood will,
Ever too proud for weakness, till the rein
Slacken'd within his grasp, and in its poise
The arrowey jeered like an aspen shook.
Day after day, he lay as if in sleep.

His skin grew dry and bloodless, and white scales,
Circled with livid purple, cover'd him.

And then his nails grew black, and fell away
From the dull flesh about them, and the hues
Deepen'd beneath the hard unmoistened scales,
And from their edges grew the rank white hair,
-And Helon was a leper!

Day was breaking,

When at the altar of the temple stood

The holy priest of God. The incense lamp
Burn'd with a struggling light, and a low chant
Swell'd through the hollow arches of the roof
Like an articulate wail, and there, alone,
Wasted to ghastly thinness, Helon knelt.
The echoes of the melancholy strain

Died in the distant aisles, and he rose up,

[head

Struggling with weakness, and bow'd down his

Unto the sprinkled ashes, and put off

His costly raiment for the leper's garb ;

And with the sackcloth round him, and his lip

Hid in a loathsome covering, stood still,
Waiting to hear his doom :-

Depart! depart, O child

Of Israel, from the temple of thy God!
For he has smote thee with his chastening rod;
And to the desert wild,

From all thou lov'st, away thy feet must flee,
That from thy plague His people may be free.

Depart! and come not near

The busy mart, the crowded city, more;
Nor set thy foot a human threshold o'er;
And stay thou not to hear

Voices that call thee in the way; and fly
From all who in the wilderness pass by.

Wet not thy burning lip

In streams that to a human dwelling glide;
Nor rest thee where the covert fountains hide;
Nor kneel thee down to dip

The water where the pilgrim bends to drink,
By desert well or river's grassy brink;

And pass thou not between

The weary traveller and the cooling breeze;
And lie not down to sleep beneath the trees
Where human tracks are seen;

Nor milk the goat that browseth on the plain,
Nor pluck the standing corn, or yellow grain.

And now depart! and when

Thy heart is heavy, and thine eyes are dim,

Lift up thy prayer beseechingly to Him.

Who, from the tribes of men, Selected thee to feel His chastening rod. Depart! O leper! and forget not God!

And he went forth-alone! Not one of all
The many whom he loved, nor she whose name
Was woven in the fibres of his heart,

Breaking within him now, to come and speak
Comfort unto him. Yea-he went his way,
Sick, and heart broken, and alone-to die!
For God had cursed the leper!

It was noon,

And Helon knelt beside a stagnant pool
In the lone wilderness, and bathed his brow,
Hot with the burning leprosy, and touch'd
The loathsome water to his fever'd lips,
Praying that he might be so blest-to die!
Footsteps approach'd, and, with no strength to flee,
He drew the covering closer on his lip,
Crying, "Unclean! unclean!" and in the folds
Of the coarse sackcloth shrouding up his face,
He fell upon the earth till they should pass.
Nearer the Stranger came, and bending o'er
The leper's prostrate form, pronounced his name—
"Helon!" The voice was like the master-tone
Of a rich instrument-most strangely sweet;
And the dull pulses of disease awoke,
And for a moment beat beneath the hot

And leprous scales with a restoring thrill.

"Helon! arise!" and he forgot his curse

And rose and stood before Him.

Love and awe

Mingled in the regard of Helon's eye
As he beheld the stranger. He was not
In costly raiment clad, nor on His brow
The symbol of a princely lineage wore ;
No followers at his back, nor in his hand
Buckler, or sword, or spear,-yet in his mien
Command sat throned serene, and if He smiled
A kingly condescension graced His lips,
The lion would have crouched to in his lair.
His garb was simple, and His sandals worn;
His stature modell'd with a perfect grace;
His countenance the impress of a God,
Touch'd with the opening innocence of a child;
His eye was blue and calm, as is the sky

In the serenest noon; His hair unshorn
Fell to His shoulders; and his curling beard
The fullness of perfected manhood bore.
He look'd on Helon earnestly awhile,

As if His heart were moved, and stooping down
He took a little water in His hand

And laid it on his brow, and said, "Be clean!"
And lo! the scales fell from him, and his blood
Coursed with delicious coolness through his veins,
And his dry palms grew moist, and on his brow
The dewy softness of an infant's stole.
His leprosy was cleansed, and he fell down
Prostrate at Jesus' feet and worshipp'd Him.
NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS.

THE MAIN TRUCK OR A LEAP FOR LIFE.

OLD Ironsides at anchor lay,

In the harbor of Mahon;
A dead calm rested on the bay-
The waves to sleep had gone;
When little Hal the captain's son,
A lad both brave and good,
In sport, up shroud and rigging ran,
And on the main truck stood!

A shudder shot through every vein—
All eyes were turned on high!
There stood the boy, with dizzy brain,
Between the sea and sky;

No hold had he above, below;

Alone he stood in air :

To that far height none dared to go―
No aid could reach him there.

We gazed, but not a man could speak,
With horror all aghast—

In groups, with pallid brow and cheek,
We watched the quivering mast.
The atmosphere grew thick and hot,
And of a lurid hue ;-

As riveted unto the spot,

Stood officers and crew.

The father came on deck :-he gasped,

"Oh, God; thy will be done!"