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I saw the green gnome sitting, with his cheek | And we saw the kirk before us, as we trotted upon his hand. down the fells,

Then he started up to see me, and he ran with And nearer, clearer, o'er us, rang the welcome of

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He clasped me round the middle small, he kissed me on the cheek,

He kissed me once, he kissed me twice, - I could not stir or speak;

He kissed me twice, he kissed me thrice, but when he kissed again,

I called aloud upon the name of Him who died for men.

Sing, sing! ring, ring! pleasant Sabbath bells! Chime, rhyme! chime, rhyme! thorough dales and dells!

Rhyme, ring! chime, sing! pleasant Sabbath bells!

Chime, sing rhyme, ring! over fields and fells!

O faintly, faintly, faintly, calling men and maids to pray,

So faintly, faintly, faintly rang the bells far

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A pensive light from Faëryland still lingered on his cheek,

His voice was like the running brook, when he began to speak ;

"O, you have cast away the charm my step-dame put on me,

Seven years I dwelt in Faëryland, and you have set me free.

O, I will mount thy palfrey white, and ride to kirk with thee,

And, by those little dewy eyes, we twain will wedded be!"

Back we galloped, never stopping, he before and I behind,

And the autumn leaves were dropping, red and

yellow, in the wind:

And the sun was shining clearer, and my heart was high and proud,

As nearer, nearer, nearer rang the kirk bells sweet and loud,

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"The wind to the waves is calling,

The moonlight is fading away;
And tears down thy cheek are falling,
Thou beautiful water-fay!"

"The wind to the waves is calling,
And the moonlight grows dim on the rocks;
But no tears from mine eyes are falling,
'Tis the water which drips from my locks."

"The ocean is heaving and sobbing,

The sea-mews scream in the spray ; And thy heart is wildly throbbing, Thou beautiful water-fay!"

"My heart is wildly swelling,

And it beats in burning truth; For I love thee past all telling, Thou beautiful mortal youth."

HENRY HEINE (German). Translation of CHARLES G. LELAND.

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Comes he not forth more fresh and bright
From ocean's cooling caves?
Canst thou unmoved that deep world see,
That heaven of tranquil blue,

Where thine own face is beckoning thee
Down to the eternal dew?

The waters purled, the waters swelled,
They kissed his naked feet;

His heart a nameless transport held,
As if his love did greet.

She spake to him, she sang to him;

Then all with him was o'er,

Half drew she him, half sank he in,
He sank to rise no more.

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Some of these may be broken, and some may be rotten;

But if twenty for accident should be detached,
It will leave me just sixty sound eggs to be hatched.
no, sound chickens,

"Well, sixty sound eggs,
I mean:

Of these some may die, -we 'll suppose seventeen,
Seventeen! not so many, - say ten at the most,
Which will leave fifty chickens to boil or to roast.

"But then there's their barley: how much will
they need?

Why, they take but one grain at a time when
they feed,

GOETHE. Translation of CHARLES T. BROOKS. So that's a mere trifle; now then, let us see,
At a fair market price how much money there'll be.
"Six shillings a pair-five-four-three-and-six,
To prevent all mistakes, that low price I will fix ;
Now what will that make ? fifty chickens, I said,—
Fifty times three-and-sixpence - I'll ask Brother
Ned.

THE NIGHTINGALE AND GLOW-WORM.

A NIGHTINGALE, that all day long
Had cheered the village with his song,
Nor yet at eve his note suspended,
Nor yet when eventide was ended,
Began to feel as well he might -
The keen demands of appetite;
When, looking eagerly around,
He spied, far off, upon the ground,
A something shining in the dark,
And knew the glow-worm by his spark;
So, stooping down from hawthorn top,
He thought to put him in his crop.
The worm, aware of his intent,
Harangued him thus, quite eloquent, --

"Did you admire my lamp," quoth he,
"As much as I your minstrelsy,
You would abhor to do me wrong,
As much as I to spoil your song;
For 't was the self-same Power divine
Taught you to sing, and me to shine;
That you with music, I with light,
Might beautify and cheer the night."
The songster heard his short oration,
And, warbling out his approbation,
Released him, as my story tells,
And found a supper somewhere else.

WILLIAM COWPER.

"O, but stop,

three-and-sixpence a pair I

must sell 'em ;

Well, a pair is a couple, -now then let us tell 'em ;
A couple in fifty will go (my poor brain !)
Why, just a score times, and five pair will remain.
"Twenty-five pair of fowls-now how tiresome

it is

That I can't reckon up so much money as this!
Well, there's no use in trying, so let's give a

guess,

I'll say twenty pounds, and it can't be no less.

"Twenty pounds, I am certain, will buy me a cow, Thirty geese, and two turkeys, -eight pigs and

a sow;

Now if these turn out well, at the end of the year,
I shall fill both my pockets with guineas, 't is
clear."

Forgetting her burden, when this she had said,
The maid superciliously tossed up her head;
When, alas for her prospects! her milk-pail

descended,

And so all her schemes for the future were ended.

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A temple for ages entombed, to disclose,
When, lo he disturbed, in its secret repose,
A toad, from whose journal it plainly appears
It had lodged in that mansion some thousands of
years.

The roll which this reptile's long history records,
A treat to the sage antiquarian affords:

The sense by obscure hieroglyphics concealed,
Deep learning at length, with long labor, revealed.
The first thousand years as a specimen take,
The dates are omitted for brevity's sake:
"Crawled forth from some rubbish, and winked
with one eye;

Half opened the other, but could not tell why;
Stretched out my left leg, as it felt rather queer,
Then drew all together and slept for a year.
Awakened, felt chilly, crept under a stone;
Was vastly contented with living alone.
One toe became wedged in the stone like a peg,
Could not get it away, - had the cramp in my leg;
Began half to wish for a neighbor at hand
To loosen the stone, which was fast in the sand;
Pulled harder, then dozed, as I found 't was no

use;

Awoke the next summer, and lo! it was loose. Crawled forth from the stone when completely awake;

Crept into a corner and grinned at a snake.
Retreated, and found that I needed repose;
Curled up my damp limbs and prepared for a doze;
Fell sounder to sleep than was usual before,
And did not awake for a century or more;
But had a sweet dream, as I rather believe:
Methought it was light, and a fine summer's eve;
And I in some garden deliciously fed

In the pleasant moist shade of a strawberry-bed.
There fine speckled creatures claimed kindred with

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The gray moss and lichen creep over the mould, Lying loose on a ponderous stone.

Now within this huge stone, like a king on his throne,

A toad has been sitting more years than is known; And strange as it seems, yet he constantly deems The world standing still while he's dreaming his dreams,

Does this wonderful toad, in his cheerful abode In the innermost heart of that flinty old stone, By the gray-haired moss and the lichen o'ergrown.

Down deep in the hollow, from morning till night,
Dun shadows glide over the ground,
Where a watercourse once, as it sparkled with
light,

Turned a ruined old mill-wheel around: Long years have passed by since its bed became dry,

And the trees grow so close, scarce a glimpse of the sky

Is seen in the hollow, so dark and so damp, Where the glow-worm at noonday is trimming

his lamp,

And hardly a sound from the thicket around, Where the rabbit and squirrel leap over the

ground,

Is heard by the toad in his spacious abode In the innermost heart of that ponderous stone, By the gray-haired moss and the lichen o'ergrown.

Down deep in that hollow the bees never

come,

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And the world's standing still with all of their | Up flew the endowment, not weighing an ounce, And down, down the farthing-worth came with a bounce.

kind;

Contented to dwell deep down in the well,

Or move like the snail in the crust of his shell, Or live like the toad in his narrow abode, With their souls closely wedged in a thick wall of stone,

By further experiments (no matter how) He found that ten chariots weighed less than one plough;

By the gray weeds of prejudice rankly o'ergrown. A sword with gilt trapping rose up in the scale,

MRS. R. S. NICHOLS.

THE PHILOSOPHER'S SCALES.

A MONK, when his rites sacerdotal were o'er,
In the depth of his cell with his stone-covered floor,
Resigning to thought his chimerical brain,
Once formed the contrivance we now shall explain;
But whether by magic's or alchemy's powers
We know not; indeed, 't is no business of ours.

Perhaps it was only by patience and care,
At last, that he brought his invention to bear.
In youth 't was projected, but years stole away,
And ere 't was complete he was wrinkled and gray;
But success is secure, unless energy fails;
And at length he produced THE PHILOSOPHER'S

SCALES.

Though balanced by only a ten-penny nail;
A shield and a helmet, a buckler and spear,
Weighed less than a widow's uncrystallized tear.

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Last of all, the whole world was bowled in at the grate,

"What were they?" you ask. You shall pres- With the soul of a beggar to serve for a weight,

ently see;

These scales were not made to weigh sugar and tea. O no; for such properties wondrous had they, That qualities, feelings, and thoughts they could weigh,

Together with articles small or immense,

From mountains or planets to atoms of sense.

Naught was there so bulky but there it would lay,
And naught so ethereal but there it would stay,
And naught so reluctant but in it must go :
All which some examples more clearly will show.

The first thing he weighed was the head of Voltaire,
Which retained all the wit that had ever been there.
As a weight, he threw in a torn scrap of a leaf,
Containing the prayer of the penitent thief;
When the skull rose aloft with so sudden a spell
That it bounced like a ball on the roof of the cell.

When the former sprang up with so strong a rebuff

That it made a vast rent and escaped at the roof!
When balanced in air, it ascended on high,
And sailed up aloft, a balloon in the sky;
While the scale with the soul in't so mightily fell
That it jerked the philosopher out of his cell.
JANE TAYLOR.

THE CALIPH AND SATAN. VERSIFIED FROM THOLUCK'S TRANSLATION OUT OF THE

PERSIAN.

IN heavy sleep the Caliph lay,
When some one called, "Arise, and pray !'

The angry Caliph cried, "Who dare
Rebuke his king for slighted prayer?"

Then, from the corner of the room,

One time he put in Alexander the Great,
With the garment that Dorcas had made for a A voice cut sharply through the gloom :

weight;

And though clad in armor from sandals to crown,
The hero rose up, and the garment went down.

A long row of almshouses, amply endowed
By a well-esteemed Pharisee, busy and proud,
Next loaded one scale; while the other was pressed
By those mites the poor widow dropped into the

chest:

"My name is Satan. Rise! obey Mohammed's law; awake, and pray."

"Thy words are good," the Caliph said, "But their intent I somewhat dread.

!"

For matters cannot well be worse
Than when the thief says, 'Guard your purse!'

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