"ALL EARTHLY JOY RETURNS IN PAIN."

OF Lentren in the first morning,
Early as did the day up-spring,

Thus sang ane bird with voice up-plain :
All earthly joy returns in pain.

O man! have mind that thou maun pass;
Remember that thou are but ass, [ashes,]
And sall in ass return again:
All earthly joy returns in pain.

Have mind that eild aye follows youth;
Death follows life with gaping mouth,
Devouring fruit and flouring grain :
All earthly joy returns in pain.
Wealth, worldly gloir, and rich array,
Are all but thorns laid in thy way,
Covered with flowers laid in ane train:
All earthly joy returns in pain.

Come never yet May so fresh and green,
But Januar come as wud and keen;
Was never sic drouth but anis come rain:
All earthly joy returns in pain.

Evermair unto this warld's joy,
As nearest heir succeeds noy,
Therefore when joy may not remain,
His very heir succedis pain.

Here health returns in seikness;
And mirth returns in heaviness;
Toun in desert, forest in plain :
All earthly joy returns in pain.

Freedom returns in wretchedness,
And truth returns in doubleness,
With fenyeit words to mak men fain:
All earthly joy returns in pain.

Virtue returnis into vice,
And honor into avarice;

With covetice is conscience slain :
All earthly joy returns in pain.

Sen earthly joy abidis never,
Work for the joy that lasts forever;
For other joy is all but vain:
All earthly joy returns in pain.

WILLIAM DUNBAR

THE LORDS OF THULE.

THE lords of Thule it did not please
That Willegis their bishop was;
For he was a wagoner's son.
And they drew, to do him scorn,
Wheels of chalk upon the wall;

He found them in chamber, found them iu hall.

But the pious Willegis

Could not be moved to bitterness;

Seeing the wheels upon the wall,

He bade his servants a painter call.;

And said," My friend, paint now for me, On every wall, that I may see,

A wheel of white in a field of red;
Underneath, in letters plain to be read-

"Willegis, bishop now by name,
Forget not whence you came!'"

BARCLAY OF URY.

Up the streets of Aberdeen,
By the kirk and college green,
Rode the laird of Ury;
Close behind him, close beside,
Foul of mouth and evil-eyed,

Pressed the mob in fury.
Flouted him the drunken churl,
Jeered at him the serving girl,

Prompt to please her master; And the begging carlin, late Fed and clothed at Ury's gate,

Cursed him as he passed her.

Yet with calm and stately mien
Up the streets of Aberdeen

Came he slowly riding;
And, to all he saw and heard,
Answering not with bitter word,

Turning not for chiding.

Came a troop with broadswords swinging, Bits and bridles sharply ringing,

Loose, and free, and froward: Quoth the foremost, "Ride him down! Push him! prick him! Through the

town

Drive the Quaker coward!"

But from out the thickening crowd Cried a sudden voice and loud:

"Barclay! Ho! a Barclay!" And the old man at his side Saw a comrade, battle-tried,

Scarred and sun-burned darkly;

Who, with ready weapon bare,
Fronting to the troopers there,

"Pledges of thy love and faith, Proved on many a field of death,

Not by me are needed." Marvelled much that henchman bold, That his laird, so stout of old,

Now so meekly pleaded.

"Woe 's the day," he sadly said,
With a slowly-shaking head,

And a look of pity;
"Ury's honest lord reviled,
Mock of knave and sport of child,
In his own good city!

"Speak the word, and, master mine,
As we charged on Tilly's line,

And his Walloon lancers, Smiting through their midst, we'll teach Civil look and decent speech

To these boyish prancers!"

"Marvel not mine ancient friend-
Like beginning, like the end!"
Quoth the laird of Ury ;
"Is the sinful servant more
Than his gracious Lord who bore
Bonds and stripes in Jewry?
"Give me joy that in His name
I can bear, with patient frame,
All these vain ones offer;
While for them He suffered long,
Shall I answer wrong with wrong,
Scoffing with the scoffer?

"Happier I, with ioss of all-
Hunted, outlawed, held in thrall,

With few friends to greet meThan when reeve and squire were seen Riding out from Aberdeen

With bared heads to meet me⚫

"When each good wife, o'er and o'er, Blessed me as 1 passed her door;

And the snooded daughter, Through her casement glancing down, Smiled on him who bore renown

From red fields of slaughter. "Hard to feel the stranger's scoff, Hard the old friends' falling off,

Hard to learn forgiving; But the Lord his own rewards, And his love with theirs accords

Warm, and fresh, and living. "Through this dark and stormy night Faith beholds a feeble light

Up the blackness streaking: Knowing God's own time is best, In a patient hope I rest

For the full day-breaking!"

So the laird of Ury said,
Turning slow his horse's head

Towards the Tolbooth prison,
Where, through iron gates, he heard
Poor disciples of the Word

Preach of Christ arisen!

Not in vain, confessor old,
Unto us the tale is told

Of thy day of trial!

Every age on him, who strays
From its broad and beaten ways,
Pours its seven-fold vial.

Happy he whose inward ear
Angel comfortings can hear,

O'er the rabble's laughter;
And, while hatred's fagots burn,
Glimpses through the smoke discern

Of the good hereafter.
Knowing this--that never yet
Share of truth was vainly set

In the world's wide fallow; After hands shall sow the seed, After hands from hill and mead Reap the harvests yellow. Thus, with somewhat of the seer, Must the moral pioneer

From the future borrow

Clothe the waste with dreams of grain, And, on midnight's sky of rain,

Paint the golden morrow!

JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER.

HARMOSAN.

595

Now the third and fatal conflict for the Persian throne was done,

And the Moslem's fiery valor had the crowning victory won.

Harmosan, the last and boldest the invader to defy,

Captive, overborne by numbers, they were bringing forth to die.

Then exclaimed that noble captive: "Lo, I perish in my thirst;

Give me but one drink of water, and let then arrive the worst! "

In his hand he took the goblet: but a while the draught forbore,

Seeming doubtfully the purpose of the foeman to explore.

Well might then have paused the bravestfor, around him, angry foes With a hedge of naked weapons did tha lonely man enclose.

"But what fearest thou?" cried the caliph "is it, friend, a secret blow?

Fear it not! our gallant Moslems no such treacherous dealing know.

"Thou may'st quench thy thirst securely, for thou shalt not die before Thou hast drunk that cup of water-this reprieve is thine-no more!"

Quick the satrap dashed the goblet down to earth with ready hand, And the liquid sank for ever, lost amid the burning sand.

"Thou hast said that mine my life is, till the water of that cup

I have drained; then bid thy servants that spilled water gather up!"

For a moment stood the caliph as by doubtful passions stirred

Then exclaimed, "For ever sacred must reinain a monarch's word.