“We sprang a leak, and the hungry waves Rush'd in through every rip; Was I to leave the ship! “ The boat in which I leaped was small, To defy that ocean wild; And the widow and her child, “I was the sixth, yet how that boat Could live was strange to me; That sustained her on that sea ! “Through three days' storm we toss'd about, And then the waters fell, A sail ; which we saw full well. “We saw it like an archangel come Nearer and yet more near : That cometh after fear ! " The dear young mother, it so appear'd, Had calmly sunk to rest, upon her breast. 66 By this the welcome ship had come Close up, to give us aid; And bade them not be afraid. "We thought that their weight seemed heavy then, But when the covering spread The mother, alas ! was dead!" “But the lad," I exclaim'd, "the cruel storm Did not the child destroy ?" “ For you were that same boy.” And cried “God's will be done! I will be, old man, à son !" For I cherished him until death; (Copyright-Contributed.) my arms THE PASSIONATE FATHER. MRS. PARTON. “Greater is he who ruleth his spirit than lie who taketh a city.” “ COME here, sir !" said a strong, athletic man, as he seized a delicate-looking lad by the shoulder. “You've been in the water again, sir! Haven't I forbidden it ?! “Yes, father, but —" Yes, sir. I was“No reply, sir!" and the blows fell like a hail-storm about the child's head and shoulders. Not a tear started from Harry's eye, but his face was deadly pale and his lips firmly compressed, as he rose and looked at his father with an unflinching eye. “Go to your room, sir, and stay there till you are sent for. I'll master that spirit of yours before many days older." Ten minutes after, Harry's door opened, and his mother glided gently in. She was a fragile, delicate you are woman, with mournful blue eyes, and temples startlingly transparent. Laying her hand softly upon Harry's head, she stooped and kissed his forehead. The rock was touched, and the waters gushed forth. "Dear mother!" said the weeping boy. - * Why didn't you tell your father that you plunged into the water to save the life of your playmate ?". “Did he give me a chance ?" said Harry, springing to his feet, with a flashing eye. “ Didn't he twice bid me be silent, when I tried to explain ? Mother, he's a tyrant to you and to me!" “Harry, he's my husband and your father !" Yes, and I'm sorry for it. What have I ever had but blows and harsh words ? Look at your pale cheeks and sunken eyes, mother! It's too bad, I say ! He's a tyrant, mother!" said the boy, with a clenched fist and set teeth; "and if it were not for you, I would have been leagues off long ago. And there's Nellie, too, poor sick child! What good will all her medicine do her ? She trembles like a leaf when she hears his footsteps. I say 'tis brutal, mother." “ Harry”—and a soft hand was laid on the impetuous boy's lips—"for my sake "Well, 'tis only for your sake-yours and poor Nellie's—or I should be on the sea somewhere-anywhere but here." Late that night, Mary Lee stole to her boy's bedside before retiring to rest. “God be thanked, he sleeps !" she murmured, as she shaded her lamp from his face. Then, kneeling at his bedside, she prayed for patience and wisdom to bear uncomplainingly the heavy cross under which her steps were faltering; and then she prayed for her husband. “No, no, not that !” said Harry, starting from his pillow, and throwing his arms about her neck. “I can forgive him what he has done to me, but I will never forgive him what he has made you suffer. Don't pray for him, —at least, don't let me hear it !" Mary Lee was too wise to expostulate. She knew her a a boy was spirit sore, under the sense of recent injustice; so she lay down beside him, and resting her tearful cheek against his, repeated in a low, sweet voice, the story of the crucifixion. “Father, forgive them; they know not what they do!” fell upon his troubled ear. He yielded to the holy spell. “I will !” he sobbed. “Mother, you are an angel ; and if ever I get to heaven, it will be your hand that has led me there." There was hurrying to and fro in Robert Lee's house that night. It was a heavy hand that dealt those angry blows on that young head! The passionate father's repentance came too late, came with the word that his boy must die. "Be kind to her !" said Harry, as his head dropped on his mother's shoulder. It was a dearly-bought lesson! Beside that lifeless corpse Robert Lee renewed his marriage vow: and now when the hot blood of anger rises to his temples, and the hasty word springs to his lip, the pale face of the dead rises up between him and the offender, and an angelvoice whispers, “ Peace, be still !" THE MOTHER. CHARLES SWAIN. "Oh thou! with whom my heart was wont to share, ROGERS. A SOFTENING thought of other years, A feeling link'd to hours And Hope sang, wreath'd with flowers ! A memory of affections fled — Of voices-heard no more! Stirred in my spirit when I read That name of fondness o'er! Oh, mother !--in that early word What loves and joys combine; — By worldly thralls opprest, A watchful mother's breast ! Beside our couch of woes; The wasting weariness endured To soften our repose ! - Nor toils relaxed thy care :- To pity and forbear? Or could repay the past ! - Regrets-that rarely last ! Thy lifeless bosom o'er; And wish we'd loved thee more! 'Tis only when thy lips are cold We mourn with late regret, 'Mid myriad memories of old The days for ever set ! Against thy meek control, Wakes anguish in the soul ! a |