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Author of "The Schönberg-Cotta Family."

THE WELL OF BETHLEHEM.

I.

THE King was faint with battle; and he stood
With weary face and garments rolled in blood,
An exile from the city of his God.

The heat and burden of the day were sore,
And he must see, with hope deferred once more,
The sunshine fade from every hill and dale,
And twilight fold his land of Israel.
His captains stood around him; but the king
Forgot the clangour and the glittering
Of sword and spear, and all the pomp of war,
-Toward the sunset stood the low gray hill
Of Bethlehem afar.

He saw a vision of the old sweet days,

When, as the custom is in Israel,
His mother went along the shady ways
By moonlight to the well;

Even in the desert hot and desolate

He felt again the touch of that sweet breeze,
He heard the murmur of the olive-trees

That wave beside the gate.

Fair vision this, for warrior of might
Athirst and weary from the headlong fight,

--Above him fiery heavens, and beneath The bitter waters of the Sea of Death;

And, "Oh! that one would bring to me," he said,

"Or e'er it be too late,

Of the water from the Well of Bethlehem,

Which is beside the gate!"

Three mighty men, full armèd for the fight,
Burst through the foemen with resistless might,
And brought unto the king,

What time the night fell late,

Of the water from the Well of Bethlehem,
Which is beside the gate.

The king once more beside his captains stood,
And to the mighty men he bent his head:
"My warriors do great things for me,” he said;
66 But this cup I do hold for these men's blood-
I may not drink—I
pour it out to God."

II.

The Earth was faint with battle; and she lay
With weary face and garments rolled in blood,
An exile from the presence of her God,
Through all the heat and burden of the day.
The noise confused of her great captains, shouting
Hoarsely against each other in the fight,
And the deep voice of all creation groaning,
Gave her no rest by either day or night;
And all her pleasant seas were turnèd now
To seas of death, and could not cool her brow.

And as she lay, and fevered with the pain

Of her long anguish, in a dream she turned again

To that sweet home which God had laid upon her breast

In the far spring-time for her children's rest;

And His own presence in the garden, and His Word, Which, mingled with the breeze, her soft trees stirred, Had given her a fountain ever sweet,

And ever springing round His blessed feet,

Where Earth might drink, and smile, and praise her Lord.

And in her dream she lifted up her voice,

And, "Oh! that one would bring to me," she said, "While I in anguish wait,

Of the water from the Well of Paradise,
Which is beside the gate !"

A mighty Man, full armèd for the fight,
Burst through the foemen with resistless might-
Not heeding that the angel of the gate

Did pierce Him sorely with his sword of light-
And brought unto the Earth,

What time the night fell late,

Of the water from the Well of Paradise,
Which is beside the gate.

Meekly, with covered face and bended head, "He hath done matchless things for me," she said "This water I do hold for this Man's bloodI take the cup, and drink, and live to God."

B. M.

DEATH OF DE ARGENTINE.

ALREADY Scattered o'er the plain---
Reproof, command, and counsel, vain-
The rearward squadrons fled amain,
Or made but doubtful stay :-
In vain the royal Edward threw
His person 'mid the spears,
Cried "Fight!" to terror and despair,
Menaced, and wept, and tore his hair,
And cursed their caitiff fears;

Till Pembroke turned his bridle rein,
And forced him from the fatal plain.
With them rode Argentine, until
They gained the summit of the hill,

But quitted there the train :-
"In yonder field a gage I left,—
I must not live, of fame bereft ;
I needs must turn again.

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ire and low bending?

ommand'st the beggar's knee,
it? No, thou proud dream,
ith a king's repose ;
e; and I know

ptre and the ball,
› crown imperial,
gold and pearl,
'fore the king,

r the tide of pomp
shore of this world,-

orgeous ceremony, majestical,

he wretched slave,

and vacant mind,

d with distressful bread :

And in her dream she lifted up her voice,

And, "Oh! that one would bring to me," she said,

66

While I in anguish wait,

Of the water from the Well of Paradise,

Which is beside the gate !"

A mighty Man, full armèd for the fight,
Burst through the foemen with resistless might—
Not heeding that the angel of the gate

Did pierce Him sorely with his sword of light-
And brought unto the Earth,

What time the night fell late,

Of the water from the Well of Paradise,
Which is beside the gate.

Meekly, with covered face and bended head, "He hath done matchless things for me," she said; "This water I do hold for this Man's blood

I take the cup, and drink, and live to God."

B. M.

DEATH OF DE ARGENTINE.

ALREADY Scattered o'er the plain---
Reproof, command, and counsel, vain-
The rearward squadrons fled amain,
Or made but doubtful stay :-
In vain the royal Edward threw
His person 'mid the spears,

Cried" Fight!" to terror and despair,
Menaced, and wept, and tore his hair,

And cursed their caitiff fears;

Till Pembroke turned his bridle rein,
And forced him from the fatal plain.
With them rode Argentine, until
They gained the summit of the hill,

But quitted there the train :-
"In yonder field a gage I left,-
I must not live, of fame bereft ;
I needs must turn again.

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