And lives out the glad tidings of "Serve God and be cheerful." Live WEEP not for me; Be blithe as wont, nor tinge with gloom The stream of love that circles home, Light hearts and free! Share, in the bosom of our rest. God's knowledge, and are blessed. FLOWERS WITHOUT FRUIT. Joy in the gifts Heaven's bounty | PRUNE thou thy words, the thoughts The wind blows cool; the scented Now gaze on nature, yet the same; A SOLDIER of the Legion lay dying in Algiers, There was lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of woman's tears; "Tell my brothers and companions, when they meet and crowd around, "Tell my mother that her other son shall comfort her old age; My heart leaped forth to hear him tell of struggles fierce and wild; I let them take whate'er they would, but kept my father's sword; "Tell my sister not to weep for me, and sob with drooping head, When the troops come marching home again with glad and gallant tread, But to look upon them proudly, with a calm and steadfast eye, For her brother was a soldier too, and not afraid to die; And if a comrade seek her love, I ask her in my name To listen to him kindly, without regret or shame, And to hang the old sword in its place (my father's sword and mine) For the honor of old Bingen, dear Bingen on the Rhine. "There's another, - not a sister: in the happy days gone by You'd have known her by the merriment that sparkled in her eye; Too innocent for coquetry, too fond for idle scorning, O friend! I fear the lightest heart makes sometimes heaviest mourning! Tell her the last night of my life (for, ere the moon be risen, My body will be out of pain, my soul be out of prison), — I dreamed I stood with her, and saw the yellow sunlight shine On the vine-clad hills of Bingen, - fair Bingen on the Rhine. "I saw the blue Rhine sweep along, - I heard, or seemed to hear, But we'll meet no more at Bingen, - loved Bingen on the Rhine." His trembling voice grew faint and hoarse, his grasp was childish weak,— |