“Which is the true?” once more the woman
asked,
Pleased at the fond amazement of the king;
“So wise a head should not be hardly tasked,
Most learned liege, with such a trivial
thing!”
But still the sage was silent; it was plain
A deepening doubt perplexed the royal brain.
While thus he pondered, presently he sees,
Hard by the casement,—so the
story goes,—
A little band of busy, bustling bees,
Hunting for honey in a withered rose.
The monarch smiled, and raised his royal head;
“Open the window!”—that was
all he said.
The window opened at the king’s command;
Within the room the eager insects flew,
And sought the flowers in Sheba’s dexter hand!
And so the king and all the courtiers
knew
That wreath was Nature’s; and the baffled queen
Returned to tell the wonders she had seen.
My story teaches (every tale should bear
A fitting moral) that the wise may find
In trifles light as atoms in the air,
Some useful lesson to enrich the mind,
Some truth designed to profit or to please,—
As Israel’s king learned wisdom from the bees!
John
G. Saxe.
LULLABY OF AN INFANT CHIEF
O hush thee, my baby, thy sire was a knight,—
Thy mother a lady both lovely and bright;
The woods and the glens, from the towers which we
see,
They all are belonging, dear baby, to thee.
O fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows,
It calls but the warders that guard thy repose;
Their bows would be bended, their blades would be
red,
Ere the step of a foeman drew near to thy bed.
O hush thee, my baby, the time soon will come,
When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum;
Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may,
For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day.
Sir
Walter Scott.
HAIL, COLUMBIA!
Hail, Columbia! happy land!
Hail, ye heroes! heaven-born band!
Who fought and bled in Freedom’s
cause,
Who fought and bled in Freedom’s
cause,
And when the storm of war was gone,
Enjoyed the peace your valor won.
Let independence be our boast,
Ever mindful what it cost;
Ever grateful for the prize,
Let its altar reach the skies.
Firm, united, let us be,
Rallying round our Liberty;
As a band of brothers joined,
Peace and safety we shall
find.
Immortal patriots! rise once more:
Defend your rights, defend your shore:
Let no rude foe, with impious hand,
Let no rude foe, with impious hand,
Invade the shrine where sacred lies
Of toil and blood the well-earned prize.
While offering peace sincere and just,
In Heaven we place a manly trust,
That truth and justice will prevail,
And every scheme of bondage fail.