For some few in the lower apartment;
Sure this must be right,
They contributed quite
To our comfort, in their humble department. 
Here’s Lydia and Polly,
And Peter the jolly,
With teeth white as ivory
And cheeks black as ebony,
So from Africa doubtless was he;
But we’ll ascend from below,
And see entering just now
With a Parisian bow
And all in a glow
Gay Monsieur Pichon,
And French teacher Faucon;
Also V——­, the Musician,
And B——­, Mathematician. 
Monsieur Laboltierre,
So brisk and debonnair
Had also been there;
And there’s Eggleston fair,
With whom none might compare. 
Miss W——­, romantic,
Miss F——­, transatlantic,
And of others a score you might see. 
But here I propose
The long list to close,
With addition of only one name;
Amidst the gay throng
Was one lovely and young,
Who brought sunshine wherever she came. 
She had light brown hair,
Was graceful and fair,
Of children many
Youngest of any,
And Margaret this maiden they call;
A sweet smile she had
That round her lips played,
And with eyes bright and blue
She’d a heart warm and true
And disposition affectionate withal. 
One advantage she’ll allow
That I have over her now,
The same in our youthful days, when
On our studies intent
Over school desk we bent,
Her Senior I always have been. 
How like to a dream
Do those days to me seem,
When with others preparing to enter
On the world’s great stage,
And with light heart engage
Our part in the drama to venture. 
Of that school there’s not one
Except thee alone,
Whom now living as friend I can claim;
Some have departed,
Some are false hearted,
And their friendship exists but in name. 
But that friendship’s long lived
That forty years has survived,
And may we not hope ’twill endure,
When in flames of fire
This earth will expire,
And old time shall itself be no more.

July 12, 1852.

ESCAPE OF THE ISRAELITES,

AND DESTRUCTION OF PHARAOH.

Ah! short-sighted monarch, dost thou think to pursue The Israel of God, and recapture them too?  Hast thou so soon forgotten the plagues on thee sent, Or so hardened thy heart that thou can’st not relent?  Then make ready thy chariots, a long way they’ll reach; Thou hast six hundred chosen, a captain to each.  Now after them hasten, no time’s to be lost, That God worketh for them, thou’st felt to thy cost. Speed thee then, speed thee, thou’lt soon them o’ertake, Thou hast so overtasked them they’re powerless and weak.  Ah! weak and defenceless they truly appear, But the Lord is their rock, they’re his special care.  See that pillar that’s leading them all on their way, It’s a bright cloud by night and a dark cloud by day; And now by the Red Sea behold they encamp,