VI. Lord of hosts! the day is thine, To the regions of the north, Thou, O Lord, shalt bring them forth; Then, a sacrifice to thee, Egypt shall an offering be. VII. Haste thee to Gilead, death-devoted maid, To save thee now e'en Gilead's balm shall fail! Lo! to the nations all thy shame is known; Thy mournful cry hath fill'd the wond'ring land; In heaps on heaps thy mighty ones are strown, Pursued and smitten by JEHOVAH's hand! "NELLY bore upon her arm the little basket with her flowers, and sometimes stopped, with timid and modest looks, to offer them at some gay carriage. ..... There was but one lady, who seemed to understand the child, and she was one who sat alone in a handsome carriage, while two young men in dashing clothes, who had just dismounted from it, talked and laughed loudly at a little distance, appearing to forget her quite. There were many ladies all around, but they turned their backs, or looked another way, or at the two young men, (not unfavorably at them,) and left her to herself. She motioned away a gipsey-woman, urgent to tell her fortune, saying, that it was told already, and had been for some years, but called the child towards her, and taking her flowers, put money into her trembling hand, and bade her go home, and keep at home, for God's sake...” BEAUTIFUL child! my lot is cast; Hope from my path hath forever past; Nothing the future can bring to me Hath ever been shadowed in dreams to thee; The warp is woven, the arrow sped, My brain hath throbbed, but my heart is dead : Tell ye my tale, then, for love or gold?- God keep thee, child, with thine angel brow, Fresh as the roses of earliest spring, Beautiful child! may'st thou never hear A heart, whose madness each hope hath crossed, Beautiful child! why should'st thou stay? There is danger near thee, - away! away! Away! in thy spotless purity; Nothing can here be a type of thee; The very air, as it fans thy brow, May leave a trace on its stainless snow; Lo! spirits of evil haunt the bowers, And the serpent glides from the trembling flowers. Beautiful child! alas, to see A fount in the desert gush forth for thee, Where the queenly lilies should faintly gleam, This weary world thou must wander in ; Beautiful child! let the weary in heart God keep thee sinless and undefiled, Beautiful being! away, away! The angels above be thy help and stay, A THOUGHT FROM ZAPPI. BY MRS. S. J. J. MERRITT. LIKE the Venetian gondolier, who chants Listen his songs; so I with freedom give The passing thought, to live in such rude verse I pour from a full heart the soul of song, |