Jove now dismissed them-self-content
To censure others, all consent.

Amongst these fools (if you look well)
Our species justly may excel;
With lynx eye others' faults we see,
But to our own, blind moles are we.

We pardon ourselves, but none else who offends.
The right eye sees us-the left sees our friends.
The sovereign Creator in forming mankind

(The men of 'to-day,' and the days which are gone),
Made each bear a wallet, in which you will find
A pocket in front and a pocket behind,
The first for your vices, the last for my own.

THE ROBIN REDBREASTS' CHORUS.

[There is an old English belief, that when a sick person is about to depart, a chorus of Robin Redbreasts raise their plaintive songs near the house of death.]

1.

THE summer sweets had passed away, with many a heartthrob sore,

For warning voices said that she would ne'er see summer

more;

But still I hoped-'gainst hope itself-and at the autumn

tide,

With joy I marked returning strength, while watching by her side.

THE ROBIN REDBREASTS' CHORUS.

2.

185

But dreary winter and his blasts came with redoubled gloom,

With trembling hands the Christmas boughs I hung around the room;

the warmth of autumn days-her life was on

the wane:

Those Christmas boughs at Candlemas I took not down again!*

3.

One day a Robin Redbreast came unto the casement near, She loved its soft and plaintive note which few unmoved can hear;

But on each sad successive day this Redbreast ceased not bringing

Other Robins, till a chorus full and rich was singing.

4.

Then, then I knew that death was nigh, and slowly stalking on;

I gazed with speechless agony on our beloved one;

No tearful eye, no fluttering mien, such sorrow durst

betray

We tried to soothe each parting pang of nature's last decay.

5.

The blessed Sabbath morning came, the last she ever saw;
And I had read of Jesus' love, of God's eternal law,
Amid the distant silver chime of Sunday bells sweet
ringing--

Amid a chorus rich and full of Robin Redbreasts singing!

* Evergreens hung about on Christmas-eve ought to be taken down on the 2d February-Candlemas-day-according to old usage.

6.

The grass waves high, the fields are green, which skirt the churchyard side,'

Where charnel vaults with massive walls their slumbering inmates hide;

The ancient trees cast shadows broad, the sparkling waters leap,

And still the Redbreast sings around her long and dreamless sleep!

LINES WRITTEN IN MEMORY OF A

FAVOURITE BIRD.

1.

I TAUGHT my gay and beauteous bird some words of love to prize,

And fancied meaning beamed within his dark and lustrous eyes :

I taught him fond and winning ways he never knew before

Ah! how the sweet one fluttering gained his rare and dainty lore.

2.

That bird was strangely dear to me; and when I mused alone,

His thrilling cadence seemed to mourn some loved and

absent one;

But at the holy sunset hour he nestled in my breast,
And understood of all sweet birds I loved my own the

best!

LINES IN MEMORY OF A FAVOURITE BIRD. 187

3.

In solitude and loneliness the human heart must cling And rest on something-though it be a dumb and soulless thing.

When summer roses fade away, 'tis sad to see them die, But far more sad it was to hear my gentle bird's last sigh.

4

bed;

And all beneath a white rose-tree I laid his little head-
The tree he loved to nestle on now shades his grassy
And when at eve these buds are gemmed with dew-drops

soft and cool,

Amid them falls a tear for thee, my bright, my beautiful!

AN English matron sat at eve
Beneath the stately tree

That grew before her husband's hall,
With her young son at her knee :
All green and ancient were the woods
That grew around their home,
And old and quaint armorial stones
Adorned their stately dome :
And 'mid dark trees a little church
Its holy form displayed,
Within whose deep and quiet vaults
Their noble dead were laid.

The boy turned up his eager eyes

To his mother, as she told

Of the proud race from whom he sprung, And their achievements old.