Round the hearth-stone of home, in the land
of our birth,

The holiest spot on the face of the earth!
Dear country! our thoughts are as constant

to thee

I LOVE THE NIGHT.

I LOVE the night when the moon streams bright

On flowers that drink the dew,

As the steel to the star or the stream to When cascades shout as the stars peep out,

the sea;

Then fill high the brimmer!

in sight,

From boundless fields of blue;

the land is But dearer far than moon or star,
Or flowers of gaudy hue,

We'll be happy, if never again, boys, to- Or murmuring trills of mountain rills,

I love, I love, love you!

From the scoffer and the cruel he hath pluck'd Last night I saw the sunset melt through my

Last night across my damp earth-floor fell No first-fruits of the orchard within thy lap the pale gleam of stars;

are laid,

In the coldness and the darkness all through For thee no flowers of Autumn the youththe long night time,

My grated casement whitened with Autumn's

crept by;

ful hunters braid.

,,Oh! weak, deluded maiden! by crazy fancies led,

With wild and raving railers an evil path to tread;

Star after star looked palely in and sank To leave a wholesome worship, and teaching

adown the sky;

,Where be the smiling faces, and voices soft and sweet,

Seen in thy father's dwelling, heard in the pleasant street?

Where be the youths, whose glances the summer Sabbath through

ever as the Tempter spoke, and feeble Nature's fears

Wrung drop by drop the scalding flow of unavailing tears,

I wrestled down the evil thoughts, and strove in silent prayer

-

Turn'd tenderly and timidly unto thy father's To feel, oh, Helper of the weak! that

pew?

Thou indeed wert there!

,,Why sit'st thou here, Cassandra? Be- I thought of Paul and Silas, within Philipthink thee with what mirth

pi's cell,

Thy happy schoolmates gather around the And how from Peter's sleeping limbs the warm bright hearth; prisonshackles fell,

How the crimson shadows tremble, on fore- Till I seem'd to hear the trailing of an angel's robe of white,

heads white and fair,

On eyes of merry girlhood, half hid in golden And to feel a blessed presence invisible to hair. sight.

,,Not for thee the hearth-fire brightens, not for thee kind words are spoken,

Not for thee the nuts of Wenham woods by laughing boys are broken;

Slow broke the gray cold morning; again Grim and silent stood the captains; and the sunshine fell, when again he cried,

Fleck'd with the shade of bar and grate,,Speak out, my worthy seamen !"

within my lonely cell;

voice or sign replied;

no

The hoarfrost melted on the wall, and up- But I felt a hard hand press my own, and kind words met my ear:

ward from the street

Came careless laugh and idle word, and,,God bless thee, and preserve thee, my gentle girl and dear!"

tread of passing feet.

At length the heavy bolts fell back, my door was open cast,

And slowly at the sheriff's side, up the long street I pass'd;

I heard the murmur round me, and felt, but dared not see,

How, from every door and window, the people gazed on me.

We paused at length, where at my feet the

sunlit waters broke

On glaring reach of shining beach, and
shingly wall of rock;
The merchants-ships lay idly there, in hard
clear lines on high,
Tracing with rope and slender spar their
net-work on the sky.

And there were ancient citizens, cloak-
wrapp'd and grave and cold,
And grim and stout sea-captains with faces
bronzed and old,

And on his horse, with Rawson, his cruel clerk at hand,

,,Well answer'd, worthy captain, shame on their cruel laws!"

Ran through the crowd in murmurs loud the people's just applause.

,,Like the herdsman of Tekoa, in Israel of old,

Sat dark and haughty Endicott, the ruler Shall we see the poor and righteous again

of the land.

heads shook, and young brows knit, the while the sheriff read That law the wicked rulers against the poor have made,

Who to their house of Rimmon and idol priesthood bring

No bended knee of worship, nor gainful of

fering.

for silver sold?"

I look'd on haughty Endicott; with weapon half way drawn,

Swept round the throng his lion glare of bitter hate and scorn;

Fiercely he drew his bridle rein, and turn'd in silence back,

And sneering priest and baffled clerk rode murmuring in his track.

Then to the stout sea-captains the sheriff Hard after them the sheriff look'd in bitter

ness of soul;

turning said: Which of ye, worthy seamen, will take this Thrice smote his staff upon the ground, and Quaker maid?

In the Isle of fair Barbadoes, or on Virgi-,,Good

nia's shore,

crush'd his parchment roll. friends," he said,,,since both have fled, the ruler and the priest,

You may hold her at a higher price than Judge ye, if from their further work I be

Indian girl or Moor."

not well released."