You build your nest in the lofty pine,

But is your slumber more sweet than mine?
You make more noise in the world than I,

But whose is the sweeter minstrelsy?"

TUBAL CAIN

CHARLES MACKAY

LD Tubal Cain was a man of might

OLD

In the days when the earth was young;
By the fierce red light of his furnace bright
The strokes of his hammer rung;

And he lifted high his brawny hand
On the iron growing clear,

Till the sparks rushed out in scarlet showers
As he fashioned the sword and spear.

And he sang,

"Hurrah for my handiwork!

Hurrah for the Spear and Sword;

Hurrah for the hand that shall wield them well,

For he shall be king and lord!"

To Tubal Cain came many a one,

As he wrought by his roaring fire,

And each one prayed for a strong steel blade,

As the crown of his desire.

And he made them weapons sharp and strong, Till they shouted loud for glee,

And gave him gifts of pearls and gold

And spoils of the forest free.

And they sang,-"Hurrah for Tubal Cain,
Who hath given us strength anew!
Hurrah for the smith! Hurrah for the fire!
And hurrah for the metal true !"

But a sudden change came o'er his heart,
Ere the setting of the sun;

And Tubal Cain was filled with pain

For the evil he had done.

He saw that men, with rage

Made war upon their kind;

and hate,

And the land was red with the blood they shed
In their lust for carnage, blind.

And he said, "Alas! That ever I made,

Or that skill of mine should plan

The spear and the sword for men whose joy
Is to slay their fellow man!"

And for many a day old Tubal Cain
Sat brooding o'er his woe;

And his hand forbore to smite the ore,
And his furnace smoldered low.

But he rose at last with a cheerful face,

And a bright courageous eye,

And bared his strong right arm for work,
While the quick flames mounted high.
And he sang, "Hurrah for my handiwork!
As the red sparks lit the air;

Not alone for the blade was the bright steel made, As he fashioned the First Plowshare.

And men, taught wisdom from the past,

In friendship joined their hands.

Hung the sword in the hall, the spear on the wall, And plowed the willing lands;

Our stanch good friend is he.

And for the Plowshare and the Plow

To him our praise shall be.
But while oppression lifts its head,
Or a tyrant would be lord,
Though we may thank him for the Plow,
We'll not forget the Sword.

O

THE BLIND BOY

COLLEY CIBBER

SAY, what is that thing called light,
Which I must ne'er enjoy?

What are the blessings of the sight?
O tell your poor blind boy!

You talk of wondrous things you see;
You say the sun shines bright;
I feel him warm, but how can he
Make either day or night?

My day and night myself I make,
Whene'er I sleep or play,

And could I always keep awake,

With me 'twere always day.

RIVER

Bright you sparkle on your way,

O'er the yellow pebbles dancing,

Through the flowers and foliage glancing, Like a child at play.

River! River! Swelling River!

On you rush o'er rough and smoothLouder, faster, brawling, leaping Over rocks, by rose banks sweeping, Like impetuous youth.

River! River! Brimming River!

Broad and deep and still as Time;
Seeming still-yet still in motion,
Tending onward to the ocean,
Just like mortal prime.

River! River! Rapid River!
Swifter now you slip away;
Swift and silent as an arrow,
Through a channel dark and narrow,
Like life's closing day.

River! River! Headlong River!
Down you dash into the sea;
Sea, that line hath never sounded,
Sea, that voyage hath never rounded,

Like eternity.

THE HEN THAT HATCHED DUCKS

ONCE

HARRIET BEECHER STOWE

there was a nice young hen that we will call Mrs. Feathertop. She was a hen of most excellent family, being a direct descendant of the Bolton Grays, and as pretty a young fowl as you should wish to see in a summer's day. She was, moreover, as fortunately situated in life as it was possible for a hen to be. She was brought up by young Master Fred Little John, with four or five family connections of hers, and a lively young cock, who was held to be as brisk a scratcher and as capable a head of a family as any half-dozen sensible hens could desire.