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Ay, be silent! let them hear each other breathing,
For a moment, mouth to mouth;
Of their tender human youth;
Is not all the life God giveth them to feel;
That they live in you, or under you, O wheels ! Still, all day, the iron wheels go onward,
As if fate in each were stark!
Spin on blindly in the dark.
That they look to Him and pray,
To bless them another day.
While this rushing of the iron wheels is stirred ? When we sob aloud, the human creatures near us
Pass unhearing—at least, answer not a word;
Strangers speaking at the door.
Hears our weeping any more?
And at midnight's hour of harm,
We say softly for a charm.
And we think that, in some pause of angels' song, He may pluck them with the silence sweet to gather,
And hold both in His right hand, which is strong. Our Father! If He heard us, He world surely
For they call Him good and mild-
“Come and rest with me, my child."
"He is silent as a stone; And they tell us, of Llis image is the master
Who commands us to work on." “Go to !” say the children; "up in Heaven,
Dark, wheel-like turning clouds are all we find! Do not mock us! we are atheists in our grieving,
We look to Him-but tears have made us blind !" Do you hear children weeping and disproving,
O my brothers, what ye teach? For God's possible is taught by His world's loving,
And the children doubt of each!
And well may the children weep before ye,
They are weary ere they run !
They have never seen the sunshine, nor the glory
Which is brighter than the sun!
They sink in their despair, with hope at calm,
Are martyrs by the pang without the palm!
No joy of memory keep,
Let them weep, let them weep!
And their look is dread to see;
With eyes meant for Deity.
Will you stand, to move the world, on a child's heart? Trample down with mailed heel its palpitation,
And tread onward to your throne amid the mart? Our blood
upward, O our tyrants! And your purple shows your path,” But the child's sob curseth deeper in the silence
Than the strong man in his wrath !
THE BELLS. -EDGAR A. PoE.
Hear the sledges with the bells
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
With a crystalline delight;
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells,
Hear the mellow wedding bells,
Through the balmy air of night
From the molten-golden notes,
And all in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
On the moon!
How it swells !
How it dwells
Of the rapture that impels
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells
Hear the loud alarum bells
Brazen bells !
In the startled ear of night
Too much horrified to speak,
Out of tune,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
Now-now to sit never,
Of Despair !
What a horror they outpour
Yet the ear it fully knows,
By the twanging,
And the clanging,
In the jangling,
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks and swells,
Of the bells-
Bells, bells, bells-
Hear the tolling of the bells
Iron bells! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels !
In the silence of the night,
How we shiver with affright
For every sound that floats
Is a groan.
And the people—ah, the people,
In that muffled monotone,
On the human heart a stone
They are Ghouls:
With the pæan of the bells I
Of the bells:
To the throbbing of the bells
To the sobbing of the bells;
As he knells, knells, knells,
To the rolling of the bells—
To the tolling of the bells,
Bells, bells, bells-
TITANIA, BOTTOM AND FAIRIES.-SHAKSPEARE
Enter TITANIA and her train.
Thorny hedge-hogs, be not seen.
Come not near our fairy queen.
Sing in our sweet lullaby,
Never harm, nor spell, nor charm,
So, good night, with lullaby.
Hence you long-legged spinners, hence:
Worm nor suail, do no offence.
[Eceunt FAIRIES. TITANIA sleeps.
[Squeezes the flower on Titania's eyelids
Exit. Enter BOTTOM, singing; Puck having clapt on him an ass's head.
With orange-tawny bill,
The wren with little quill-