JANE CONQUEST. About the time of Christmas (Not many months ago), When the sky was black With wrath and rack, And the earth was white with snow, When loudly rang the tumult Of winds and waves of strife, In her home by the sea, And he was on the ocean, Could tell of the ship, To lighten her heart's despair. Was all but still, And the brow was chill, And pale as the white sea mist. Jane Conquest's heart was hopeless; The night was dark and darker, And dreamless sleep. Lay the hamlet under the hill. The fire was dead on the hearthstone Within Jane Conquest's room, And still sat she, With her babe on her knee, At prayer amid the gloom. When, borne above the tempest, A sound fell on her ear, Thrilling her through, For well she knew "Twas the voice of mortal fear. And a light leaped in at the lattice, Sudden and swift and red; Crimsoning all, The whited wall, And the floor, and the roof o'erhead. For one brief moment, heedless And through the quaint old casement Thank God that the sight So rare a sight should be! Hemmed in by many a billow On all that wreck Where the fierce fire did not burn: Till the night was like a sunset, And the sea like a sea of blood, And the rocks and shore Were bathed all o'er And drenched with the gory flood. She looked and looked, till the terror And her sight grew dizzy and dim; And her lips had lost their utterance For she tried but could not speak; And her feelings found No channel of sound Once more that cry of anguish Thrilled through the tempest's strife, And it stirred again In heart and brain And the light of an inspiration And on lip and brow A purpose pure and high. Swiftly she turns, and softly And faltering not, In his tiny cot She laid the babe she bore. She sank to her knees, and made In the silence there, And this was the prayer she prayed: "O Christ, who didst bear the scourging, O True and Sweet, "And lo! my boy is dying! Yea, greater than I can bear! Most weak and human, Do plead for their waiting wives. Of this terrible death And let Thy power, And so her prayer she ended, Gave one long look At the cradle nook Where the child's faint pulses beat; And then with softest footsteps Retrod the chamber floor, And noiselessly groped For the latch and oped And through the tempest bravely And slippery steep To where her duty lay. And she journeyed onward, breathless, With the strength, and the zest, Solemn, and weird, and lonely, Stood the old, old gray church Secure from the sea and its waves; Lay the hamlet safe and still; And the wind might be, Jane Conquest reached the churchyard, And had bolts enough, And her strength was frail and poor; So she crept through a narrow window, And climbed the belfry stair, And grasped the rope, Sole cord of hope, For the mariners in despair. And the wild wind helped her bravely, And she wrought with an earnest will, And the clamorous bell Spoke out right well To the hamlet under the hill. Till a hundred fleet And eager feet Were hurrying to the shore. And then it ceased its ringing, For the woman's work was done, And many a boat That was now afloat But the ringer in the belfry Lay motionless and cold, With the cord of hope, How long she lay it boots not, To find the gloom, And the grief, and the peril past, And the cooing sound Of her babe's voice in her ear. And they told her all the story, And reached the wreck, When, cold and white, The child she left With a heart bereft Of hope, and weary with pain, With a peaceful smile On its lips the while, And the wasting sickness stayed. And she said, “”Twas the Christ who watched it, And brought it safely through;" And she praised His truth And His tender ruth Who had saved her darling too. VALLEY FORGE.-HENRY ARMITT BROWN. Extract from an oration delivered upon the occasion of the first Centenary Anniversary of the Encampment at Valley Forge. MY COUNTRYMEN:-The century that has gone by has changed the face of nature and wrought a revolution in the habits of mankind. We stand to-day at the dawn of an ex |