THE CHILD OF THE FLAXEN LOCKS.

HILD of the flaxen locks | But ever, when thou rovest from his side,
Watches to win thee back with pitying

and laughing eye, Culling with hasty glee

the flowerets gay,

Or chasing with light foot

the butterfly,

I love to mark thee at
thy frolic play.

love.

LOVE IS MADNESS.

MRS. ABDY.

OVE is that madness which all lovers have,

But yet 'tis sweet and pleasing so to rave;

Near thee I see thy tender 'Tis an enchantment where the reason's

father stand;

His anxious eye pursues
thy roving track,

And oft with warning voice and beckoning
hand

bound,

But Paradise is in th' enchanted ground;
A palace void of envy, cares and strife,
Where gentle hours delude so much of life.
To take those charms away and set me free

He checks thy speed and gently draws Is but to send me into misery,

thee back.

Why dost thou meekly yield to his decree?
Fair boy, his fond regard to thee is
known;

He does not check thy joys from tyranny;
Thou art his loved, his cherished and his

own.

When worldly lures, in manhood's coming hours,

Tempt thee to wander from discretion's

way,

Oh, grasp not eagerly the offered flowers: Pause if thy heavenly Father bid thee stay

And prudence, of whose cure so much you boast,

Restores those pains which that sweet folly lost.

JOHN DRYDEN.

Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again, and make

Pause, and in him revere a Friend and Perpetual day, or let this hour be but
Guide

A year, a month, a week, a natural day, Who does not willingly thy faults re- That Faustus may repent and save his soul. O lente, lente, currite, noctis equi!

prove,

The stars move still, time runs, the clock | Or why is this immortal that thou hast?
Oh, Pythagoras, metempsychosis! Were that

See where Christ's blood streams in the fir- All beasts are happy; for when they die, mament; Their souls are soon dissolved in elements,

One drop of blood will save me. O my But mine must live still to be plagued in

And see! a threatening arm and angry brow. It strikes, it strikes! Now, body, turn to Mountains and hills, come, come, and fall on

And hide me from the heavy wrath of O soul, be changed into small water-drops

I'LL LOVE NO MORE.

For 'twixt the hours of twelve and one me

thought

I heard him shriek and call aloud for ILL love no more, said I, in sullen mood; The world is wholly selfish, false and vain;

help, At which same time the house seemed all on The generous heart but courts ingratitude,

fire

With dreadful horror of these damnèd fiends.

SEC. SCH. Well, gentlemen, though Faustus' end be such

As every Christian heart laments to think

on,

Yet for he was a scholar once ad

mired

For wondrous knowledge in our German
schools-

We'll give his mangled limbs due burial,
And all the scholars, clothed in mourning
black,

Shall wait upon his heavy funeral.

CHRISTOPHER MARLOW.

And friendship woos but insult and disdain.

Far from a cold and worthless world I'll haste:

Why should my best affections unrequited

waste?

I fled the busy throng and turned my feet Where towering trees in sunny dells rejoice,

But all things seemed, amid my lone retreat,

To mourn my stern resolve and chide my

choice;

All urged me, so methought, to turn again,
And with a hopeful trust to love my fellow-

men.