The Farmer's Daughter. BY THE REV. JOHN MITFORD. N Debens bank, our little farm Smil'd sweetly from its sylvan nook, Well could I read and write, and use My mother would not let me lose My time in idleness which leads to ill. And tidily my clothes I kept, And ever, when I went to bed I heard my mother's gentle tread, Kissing me gently as I slept. Along my chamber still I set Pots of sweet flowers and mignionette, And 'mid my combs, and pins, and brushes there, And little trinkets for my hair, I always kept, Before I slept, The lessons of my book of prayer. Sometimes, by way of company, We kept no maid, and I had much to do; I milk'd, and churned, and baked, and learned to brew, Laughing, and went about my work, and singing, Oh, 'twas a happy time indeed; So much to learn, to love, to do, I taught my little sisters how to read, And got our world of business through,— Then my reward at evening came, A countless, countless throng of blisses When at leisure or at ease, Sitting on my mother's knees, With something betwixt smiles and sighs, She looked as 'twere into my eyes, And smothered all my cheek with kisses: A plain good man my father was, Our home, our little sylvan home, Was cheerful as a hive of bees; Like night owls, who, their flight to smother, We lived in fear of God; and mind- The beggar never from our door My father said that gold to all Feuds of the Olden Times. "THEN Roderick from the Douglas broke, "Sullen and slowly they unclasp, As struck with shame, their desperate grasp, With foot advanced and blade half bared; Then Roderick plunged in sheath his sword, Lady of the Lake, Canto II. SCOTT. N the early times of all nations, particularly at the period in which rude clans formed the component parts of a country, feuds and fighting were looked upon as necessary ingredients to the community. The powerful chieftains of fierce tribes saw in them a field for noble excitement, for aggrandisement, or for valorous display. In S |