The clock struck twelve; the Dead hath heard; He opened both his eyes, And sullenly he shook his tail To lash the feeding flies. One quiver of the hempen cord, One struggle and one bound, With stiffened limb and leaden eye, And straight towards the sleeper's house And hooting owl, and hovering bat, Back flew the bolt, up rose the latch, And little mincing feet were heard Pat, pat along the floor. Two hoofs upon the sanded floor, And they are breathing side by side, The living and the dead! "Now wake, now wake, thou butcher man! Take hold! take hold thou dost not fear Untwisted every winding coil: The shuddering wretch took hold, All like an icicle it seemed, So tapering and so cold. "Thou com'st with me, thou butcher man And open, open swung the door, Fast fled the darkness of the night, They called full loud, they knocked full long, Straight, straight towards that oaken beam, A ghastly shape was swinging there, It was the butcher man. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. A RHYMED LESSON. SOME words on LANGUAGE may be well applied, The native freedom of the Saxon lips; The Not all the pumice of the polished town Can smooth this roughness of the barnyard down; By this one mark, he's awkward in the face; · It can't be helped, though, if we 're taken young, -- Learning condemns beyond the reach of hope Once more; speak clearly, if you speak at all; Try over hard to roll the British R; F don't say "How?" for "What?" And, when you stick on conversation's burrs, Don't strew your pathway with those dreadful urs. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. THE ROSE UPON MY BALCONY. THE rose upon my balcony, the morning air perfuming, Was leafless all the winter time and pining for the spring; You ask me why her breath is sweet, and why he' cheek is blooming: It is because the sun is out and birds begin to sing. The nightingale, whose melody is through the greenwood ringing, Was silent when the boughs were bare and winds were blowing keen. And if, Mamma, you ask of me the reason of his sing ing, It is because the sun is out and all the leaves are green. Thus each performs his part, Mamma: the birds have found their voices, The blowing rose a flush, Mamma, her bonny cheek to dye; And there's sunshine in my heart, Mamma, which wakens and rejoices, And so I sing and blush, Mamma, and that's the rea son why. WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY.1 1 WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY, born at Calcutta, in 1811, was educated at the Charter House, and at Cambridge GREEN FIELDS OF ENGLAND. GREEN fields of England! wheresoe'er Sweet eyes in England, I must flee Dear home in England, safe and fast University. He inherited a handsome property, but lost it, studied law, and finally took to literature. He wrote many charming poems, but his fame rests upon his novels, which have placed him at the head of English novelists. He died in 1863. 1 ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH was born at Liverpool in 1820. He was educated at Rugby and Oxford, and was then a tutor for some time in Oriel College. In 1852 he visited the United States, and passed some time in Cambridge, Massachusetts. He died at Florence, Italy, in 1861. Besides a volume of very remarkable poems, he published a translation of Plutarch, in 1859 |