196

A

"The suit of Russet Brown."

MAIDEN once a lover had
Who breath'd the truest sighs—

But simply was this lover clad

In dark and lowly guise;

So all his wooing was in vain, in vain,
She scorned his peasant grade;

She toss'd her head, and mocked his pain,
And laughed at all he said.

"No, no," cried she, "the tale would be
A jest for all the town!

I'll wed no youth who wears, forsooth,
A suit of russet brown."

2 He offered her a gentle bird,
Whose plumage, it was true,
Gave forth no sheen of glossy green,
No scarlet, gold, or blue:
She looked upon it with an eye

3

That flashed with kindling pride;
With head uplift, she scorned the gift,
And thrust the cage aside.

"No, no," cried she, with pompous airs,

"Such boon I would not own;

For, like yourself, it only wears

A suit of russet brown."

When next she met the youth he wore

A doublet of brave cost:

The bird's rich song was heard to pour—

But youth and bird were lost.

The maiden then bewailed her fate,
She rued her scornful mirth;

And thought, but ah! she thought too late,
"Plain garbs may cover worth."

Then ladies, list-this lesson learn

Be wary how ye frown;

Think twice ere once ye rudely spurn
A suit of russet brown.

ELIZA COOK.

197

198

"The Comrades' Song of Hope."

FARK,

GARK, what strains of solemn gladness
Are heard filling the air!

Sweet as Hope that dawns on sadness,
The gloom of doubt dispelling,
A joyful day foretelling,

To follow the night of despair.
Men that toil in the battle of life,

Listen to strains that will sweeten the strife!
The righteous cause alone is glorious,
And wins the fight,

The friends of truth shall be victorious,
For truth is might.

Falsehood and malice may assail you,
And hell dismay;

He that is mighty will not fail you,

He will be your stay,

When the kindly country that bore you,
When broad mankind your valour needs;
When the good and great gone before you,
Look down to mark your noble deeds;
For the love of fatherland and freedom,
For truth and right stand in the van!
Fling wealth and pomp to those who need them,
Be staunch and bold, and play the man,
Truth your standard, holy your cause,

Be faithful to death, for your freedom and laws;
Truth your standard, holy your cause,

Be faithful to death, for your freedom and laws!
Your cause is right,

And right is might,
Then play the man,
Ye sons of light.

Saturday Afternoon.

J. S. STALLY BRASS.

LOVE to look on a scene like this,
Of wild and careless play;

And persuade myself that I am not old,
my locks are not yet grey;

And

For it stirs the blood in an old man's heart,
And makes his pulses fly,

To catch the thrill of a happy voice,
And the light of a pleasant eye.

2 I have walk'd the world for fourscore years,
And they say that I am old,

That my heart is ripe for the reaper, Death,
And my years are well-nigh told.
It is very true; it is very true!

I'm old and "I bide my time;"
But my heart will leap at a scene like this,
And I half renew my prime.

3 Play on, play on, I am with you there
In the midst of your merry ring ;
I can feel the thrill of the daring jump,
And the rush of the breathless swing;
I hide with you in the fragrant hay,
And I whoop the smother'd call;
And my feet slip up on the seedy floor,
And I care not for the fall.

4 I am willing to die when my time shall come,
And I shall be glad to go;

For the world at best is a weary place,
And my pulse is getting low :

But the grave is dark, and the heart will fail
In treading its gloomy way,

And it wiles my heart from its dreariness
To see the young and gay.

N. P. WILLIS.

199

WORK AND DUTY.
"Make your Mark."

N the quarries should you toil,

IN

Make, make your mark;

Do you delve upon the soil?

Make, make your mark;

In whatever path you go,
In whatever place you stand;

200

Moving swift, or moving slow,
With a firm and steady hand
Make your mark, make your mark !
2 Life is fleeting as a shade,

Make your mark ;

Marks of some kind must be made,

Make your mark;

Make it while the arm is strong,
In the golden hours of youth;
Never, never make it wrong,
Make it with the stamp of truth;

Make your

mark!

"Hurrah for the Men who Work."

HURR

URRAH for the men who work!
Whatever may be their trade!
Hurrah for the men who wield the pen.
And the men who use the spade!
For they earn their daily bread

By the sweat of an honest brow;
Hurrah for the men who dig and delve,
And the men who reap and plough.
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah for noble workers!
Hurrah for the young and old!

The men of worth all over the earth:

Hurrah for the workers bold.

2 Hurrah for the sturdy arm!

Hurrah for the steady will!

Hurrah for the hand that guides the plough,
And the hand that drives the quill!
Hurrah for the open heart!

Hurrah for the noble aim !

Hurrah for the joy of peaceful homes!
Hurrah for an honest name!

3 Hurrah for the men who strive!

Hurrah for the men who save!

Hurrah for the men who earn their bread,
And will not stoop to crave!

201

202

Hurrah for the men that work,

And the trade that suits them best!
Hurrah for the day of honest toil,
And the one of blessed rest!

J. RICHARDSON.

"Life is Earnest.”

IFE is real, life is earnest,
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Finds us farther than to-day.

2 Art is long, and time is fleeting,

And our hearts tho' stout and brave,
Still like muffled drums are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
Lives of good men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime;
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time.
3 Footprints that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labour and to wait.

LONGFELLOW.

The Cabman's Song.

X E take our stand, my horse and I,

In rain, and wind, and sun,

In busy streets where crowds go by
We wait till day is done ;