. Harper's young people . homo, No more he treads these halls; In vain my voice invokes his namr, In vain my tears, my calls. The night winds sigh, the owlets cry. The moons pale light appears, The stars are shivering in the sky— I tremble at my fears. Has then the Knight of Shadowy Bread My Leo foreed away From his fond parents loving heart In Deaths grim halls astray? I bow reluctant to my fate; Tis mine to weep and mine to wait! He counted the lines over carefully; the eighth andtenth seemed short, but it scanned after a fashion. Onthe whole it suited him, and was rather better done thanman
. Harper's young people . homo, No more he treads these halls; In vain my voice invokes his namr, In vain my tears, my calls. The night winds sigh, the owlets cry. The moons pale light appears, The stars are shivering in the sky— I tremble at my fears. Has then the Knight of Shadowy Bread My Leo foreed away From his fond parents loving heart In Deaths grim halls astray? I bow reluctant to my fate; Tis mine to weep and mine to wait! He counted the lines over carefully; the eighth andtenth seemed short, but it scanned after a fashion. Onthe whole it suited him, and was rather better done thanmany of his verses, so with soothed nerves he sought hispillow. The old woman had slumbered all the evening in herchair. Indeed, her snoring had been even and regularenough to act as a measure in marking the time for tin-musical cadences of the sonnet. Morpheus, having a pretty good appetite, ate some breadand cheese and drank some ale before retirino-.[TO nn CONTINUED.] .11 \.\ 81 IIAKIKUS PEOPLE. 617 CrtfrSMl A ,. ANIMAL STUDIES AT THE CENTRAL PAKK.—DRAWN BY F. S. CHURCH. CIS HARPERS YOUNG PEOPLE. VOLUME IV. BRAVO, STICK! BY MARGARET EYTINGE. ONE day in autumn a fine flower bulb was plantedsome five or six inches deep in the rich brownground, and a stick that the gardener had found lying inthe field just outside of the garden gate was stuck near it. Well, said the stick, in a dry little voice, as soon asthe gardener had gone, I never thought to be broughtinto this beautiful garden, at which I have been peepingthrough the fence for a month or more. I wonder if Iam to live here always ? I hope so. If you do live here always, called the flower bulbfrom her snug resting-place, I dont see what good itwill do you. Youre only a stick, and a stick youll re-main, kowl—and, by-the-bye, if it hadnt been for meyoud have staid in the field, for you were wanted onlyto mark the place where I am planted—shall greet thespring with handsome green, leaves and the summer withlovely b
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookpublishernewyo, bookyear1879
