Speak gently to the aged one,

Grieve not the care-worn heart, The sands of life are nearly run, Let such in peace depart.

Speak gently, kindly, to the poor-
Let no harsh tone be heard;
They have enough they must endure,
Without an unkind word.

Speak gently to the erring ones— They must have toil'd in vain; Perchance unkindness made them so, Oh, win them back again.

Speak gently!-He who gave his life
To bend man's stubborn will,
When elements were fierce with strife
Said to them, "Peace, be still."

Speak gently!-'tis a little thing Dropp'd in the heart's deep well; The good, the joy that it may bring, Eternity shall tell.

THE ENGLISH HEARTH.

GEORGE TWEDDELL.

FROM THE YORKSHIRE

MISCELLANY," 1845.

"O pleasant hour! O moment ever sweet! When once again we reach the calm retreat, Where looks of iove and tones of joy abide,

That heaven on earth--our dear, our own fireside!" Heavisides' Pleasures of Home.

WHEN Autumn's fruits are gather'd in,

And trees and fields are bare;

When merry birds no more are heard

To warble in the air;

When sweetest flowers have droop'd and died,

And snow is on the ground;

How cheerful is an English hearth,

With friends all seated round.

Then is the time for festive mirth,
Then is the time for glee;
'Tis then the tales of by-gone days
Give pleasure unto me:

And when the wild storm howls without

With deep and hollow sound,

I love the cheerful English hearth

With friends all seated round.

And when those touching strains are sung, Writ by the bards of old,

How swift the evening seems to fly

Unfelt the piercing cold:

What though the snow-flakes thickly fall,

And icicles abound!

I have a cheerful English hearth

For friends to sit around.

And when the clouds of worldly care
Are gathering o'er my brow;
When sorrow's frost has nipt my heart,
And check'd the blood's warm flow;
When grief has in her heavy chain
My buoyant spirits bound;
How cheering is an English hearth,

With friends all seated round.

Though slander's foul, envenom'd shafts

Should pierce my spirit through,

There is one smile, one sunlit eye,

To beam upon me now;

And though my fate should be to roam
Where stranger forms are found,

I'll think upon my English hearth,
And friends who sat around.

Then fill each glass with nut-brown ale,
And smoke the fragrant weed;
Our English hearths we will protect
In every hour of need :—

Come, let us drink one parting toast,
Through Europe let it sound;
It is The cheerful English hearth,
With friends all seated round.

THE LADY ALICE.

FROM HOUSEHOLD WORDS," AND, OF COURSE, ANONYMOUS,

I.

WHAT doth the Lady Alice so late on the turret-stair, Without a lamp to light her but the diamond in her hair; When every arching passage overflows with shallow gloom, And dreams float through the castle, into every silent

room?

She trembles at her footsteps, although their fall is light; For through the turret-loopholes she sees the murky night,

Black, broken vapours streaming across the stormy skies,-Along the empty corridors the moaning tempest cries.

She steals along a gallery, she pauses by a door;

And fast her tears are dropping down upon the oaken floor; And thrice she seems returning, but thrice she turns

again;

Now heavy lie the clouds of sleep on that old father's brain!

Oh, well it were that never thou should'st waken from thy

sleep!

For wherefore should they waken who waken but to

weep?

No more, no more beside thy bed may Peace her vigil

keep;

Thy sorrow, like a lion, waits upon its prey. to leap.

II.

An afternoon in April. No sun appears on high;

A moist and yellow lustre fills the deepness of the sky; And through the castle gateway, with slow and solemn

tread,

Along the leafless avenue they bear the honour'd dead.

They stop. The long line closes up, like some gigantic

worm;

A shape is standing in the path; a wan and ghost-like

form;

Which gazes fixedly, nor moves; nor utters any sound; Then, like a statue built of snow, falls lifeless to the ground.

And though her clothes are ragged, and though her feet are bare;

And though all wild and tangled, falls her heavy silkbrown hair;