The Doctor.

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Then pledged we the wine-cup, and fondly I swore, From my home and my weeping friends never to part; My little ones kissed me a thousand times o'er,

And my wife sobbed aloud in her fulness of heart.

Stay, stay with us,—rest, thou art weary and worn;
And fain was their war-broken soldier to stay ;-
But sorrow returned with the dawning of morn,
And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away.

CAMPBELL.

THE DOCTOR.

H, do not fear the doctor;

He comes to make you well,

To nurse you like a tender flower,

And pleasant tales to tell;

He brings the bloom back to your cheek,

The blithe blink to your eye,—

An 't were not for the doctor,

My bonnie bairn might die.

Oh, who would fear the doctor,

His powder or his pill—

You just a wee bit swallow take,

And there's an end of ill.

He'll make you sleep sound as a top,

And rise up like a fly,—

An 't were not for the doctor,

My bonnie bairn might die.

A kind man is the doctor,
As many poor folk ken;

He spares no toil by day or night
To ease them of their pain;

And oh, he loves the bairnies well
And grieves whene'er they cry,-

An 't were not for the doctor,

My bonnie bairn might die.

ALEXANDER SMART.

IN SICKNESS.

HEN upon the bed of languor
Weak and feverish we toss,

Should something like impatient anger

Come the weary mind across,

The only remedy that's found

To drive away the sin,

Is gentle words to those around,
And holy thoughts within.

Thus, in prison hours full often,

Saints their rugged beds could smooth;
Thus their stern jailer's heart could soften,
And their own sad bosoms soothe,
How did Joseph, dungeon-bound,
Release and honour win?

By gentle words to those around,
And holy thoughts within.

Then, although a prisoner lying

Chained in weariness and pain,

My soul through tedious hours is sighing
For sunshine and for health again;

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My Father's at the Helm."

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Yet in my chamber ne'er be found

A dream of selfish sin,

But gentle words to those around,

And holy thoughts within.

REV. W. CALVERT.

"MY FATHER'S AT THE HELM.”

HE curling waves with awful roar
A little boat assailed;

And pallid fear's distracting power

O'er all on board prevailed.

Save one, the captain's darling child,
Who steadfast viewed the storm,
And cheerful, with composure smiled

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At danger's threatening form.

Why sport'st thou thus," a seaman cried,

"While terrors overwhelm?"

"Why should I fear?" the boy replied,

"My father's at the helm !"

So when our worldly all is reft,
Our earthly helper gone,

We still have one true anchor left,
God helps, and he alone.

Then turn to Him, 'mid sorrows wild,
When want and woes o'erwhelm,
Remembering, like the fearless child,
Our Father's at the helm.

ANON.

KINDNESS TO ANIMALS.

YURN, turn the hasty foot aside,

Nor crush that helpless worm;

The frame thy wayward looks deride, Required a God to form.

The common Lord of all that move,
From whom thy being flowed,

A portion of his boundless love

On that poor worm bestowed.

The sun, the moon, the stars he made,
To all his creatures free;

And spreads o'er earth the grassy blade
For worms as well as thee.

Let them enjoy their little day,
Their lowly bliss receive;

Oh, do not lightly take away

The life thou canst not give.

GISBORN.

THE BRIDGE.

STOOD on the bridge at midnight,

As the clocks were striking the hour, And the moon rose o'er the city, Behind the dark church-tower.

I saw her bright reflection

In the waters under me,

Like a golden goblet falling
And sinking into the sea.

The Bridge.

And far in the hazy distance

Of that lovely night in June, The blaze of the flaming furnace Gleamed redder than the moon.

Among the long, black rafters

The wavering shadows lay,

And the current that came from the ocean
Seemed to lift and bear them away;

As, sweeping and eddying through thein,
Rose the belated tide,

And, streaming into the moonlight,
The seaweed floated wide.

And like those waters rushing
Among the wooden piers,
A flood of thoughts came o'er me
That filled my eyes with tears.

How often, oh, how often,

In the days that had gone by,
I had stood on that bridge at midnight
And gazed on that wave and sky!

How often, oh, how often,

I had wished that the ebbing tide Would bear me away on its bosom O'er the ocean wild and wide!

For my heart was hot and restless,
And my life was full of care,
And the burden laid upon me

Seemed greater than I could bear.

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