From the poor dying creature who writhes on the floor; Hear the cûrses that sound like Hope's dying farewell,

As you sicken, and shudder, and fly from the door; Then home to your wardrobes, and say, if you dareSpoiled children of Fashion-you've nothing to weûr ! 3. And oh! if perchance thêre should be a sphere Where all is made right which so puzzles us here; Where the glare and the glitter, and tinsel of Time Fade and die in the light of that region sublime; Where the soul, disenchanted 1 of flesh and of sense, Unscreened by its trappings, and shows, and pretense,3 Must be clothed, for the life and the service above, With purity, truth, faith, meekness, and love; O daughters of Earth! foolish virgins, beware! Lest in that upper realm you have nothing to wear!

IV.

84. UNSEEN SPIRITS,

HE shadows lay along Broadway-
"Twas near the twilight-tide-

And slowly thêre à lady fâir

Was walking in her pride.
Alone walked she; but, viewlessly,
Walked spirits at her side.

2. Peace charmed the street beneath her feet,
And Honor charmed the air;

And all åstir looked kind on her,
And called her good and fâir;
For all God ever gave to her

She kept with châry 5 câre.

3. She kept with care her beauties râre
From lovers warm and true;

1 Dĭs'en chant'ed, delivered from the power of spells, or charms; freed from delusion.

2 Trǎp'pings, ornaments. 3 Pre tense', false show.

4 William Allen Butler, an American lawyer and poet, was born in

BUTLER.4

Albany, N. Y., in 1825. He has con
tributed many papers in prose and
verse to periodicals. The poem of
"Nothing to Wear," from which the
åbove is an extract, appeared in
1857, and was very popular.
5 Chary (châr'ỹ), cautious.

For her heart was cold to all but gold—
And the rich came not to woo:

But honored well are charms to sell,
If priests the selling do.

4. Now walking thêre was one more fâir-
A slight girl, lily-pale;

And she had unseen company

To make the spirit quail : 1

"Twixt Want and Scôrn she walked forlorn,"

And nothing could avail.

5. No mercy now can clear her brow

For this world's peace to pray ;

For, as love's wild prâyer dissolved in âir,
Her woman's heart gave way!

But the sin forgiven by Christ in heaven
By man is eûrsed alway!

SECTION XXIII.

I.

85. THE BOY OF RATISBON.

You

WILLIS.3

OU know we French stormed Ratisbon ; —
A mile or so ȧway,

On å little mound, Napoleon 5

Stood on our storming day;

With neck out-thrust, you fancy how-
Legs wide, arms locked behind,
As if to balance the prone6 brow
Oppressive with its mind.

1 Quail, to become quelled; to shrink; to give way.

? For lorn', forsaken; miserable. 3 Nathaniel Parker Willis, an American author, was born in Portland, Maine, Jan. 20, 1807. He has written much and well, both in prose and verse. His style is remarkably sprightly and graceful. No American writer has shown more skill in construction, or in å happy choice of

words. He died January 10, 1861.
4 Răt'is bon, å walled town of
Bavaria, and once its capital. Near
it, in 1809, Napoleon was wounded
in å battle with the Austrians.

5

Napoleon Bonaparte, å great warrior and statesman, first "Emperor of the French," was born at Ajaccio, in Corsica, Aug. 15, 1769, and died at St. Helena, May 5, 1821.

"Prōne,inclined; bending forward.

2. Just as perhaps he mused, "My plans
That sōar, to earth may fall,

Let once my army-leader Lannes 1
Waver at yonder wall;"

Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew,
A rider bound on bound

Full-galloping; nor bridle drew

Until he reached the mound.

3. Then off there flung, in smiling joy,
And held himself erect

Just by his horse's mane, å boy;
You hardly could suspect-
(So tight he kept his lips compressed,
Scarce any blood eame through)—
You looked twice ere you saw his breast
Was all but shot in two.

4. "Well," cried he, "Emperor, by God's grace
We've got you Ratisbon !

The marshal's in the market-place,
And you'll be thêre anon

To see your flag-bird flap his vans

Where I, to heart's desire,

Perched him." The chief's eye flashed; his plans

Soared up again like fire.

5. The chief's eye flashed; but presently

Softened itself, as sheathes

A film the mother-eagle's eye

When her bruised eaglèt breathes;

"You're wounded!"-"Nay," his soldier's pride
Touched to the quick, he said:

"I'm killed, sire!" And, his chief beside,
Smiling, the boy fell dead.

Jean Lannes (lănz), duke of Montebello, ȧ marshal of France, was born in Lectoure, old province of Guienne, April 11, 1769, and died in Vienne, May 31, 1809.

2 Robert Browning, one of the most remarkable English poets, was

BROWNING.2

born in Camberwell, å suburb of London, in 1812. Though å true poet, many of his poems are not popular among the måsses. A few of his dramatic lyrics, however, of which the above is one, are unrivaled in elements of popularity.

HE thick fog baffled vision,
But daylight lingered yet,
When two ships in collision,1
Upon the ocean met;

1 The Collision of the Arctic and the Vesta, two ocean steamers, in which the former was lost, with

most of the passengers on board, occurred near New'foundland in the autumn of 1854.

The Aretie shook and reeled;

A hole in her fōre-quarter
Let in å rush of water:

The good ship's doom was sealed.
2. And there were men and women
Crowded upon the deck;

And there were frightened seamen
Rushing to leave the wreck!
In vain the eăptain shouted;
The craven1 crew have left him,
Of every boat bereft him :
Destruction is undoubted.

3. But, hark! å gun is pealing
Fast from that vessel's side;
One true heart is revealing
That Duty doth ȧbide
O'er Death and all his hōst.
The boy stands loading, firing,
Unaided and untiring,

Nor thinks he of inquiring
If he may quit his post.

4. The ship sinks lower, lower—
She's påst her water-line;
The climbing sûrges throw her
Deeper within the brine.
Foam-wreaths her last plank crown!
But, as the wild waves won her,
There stood the youthful gunner;
One låst peal sent from on her—
Then with his gun went down!

III.

87. THE POLISH BOY.

OSBORNE.

HENCE come those shrieks so wild and shrill,

WH

That cut like blades of steel, the air,

1 Craven (krā'vn), cowardly; with meanness.