O Reader! had you in your mind

Such stores as silent thought can bring,

O gentle Reader! you would find
A tale in every thing.

What more I have to say is short,
And you must kindly take it:

It is no tale; but, should you think,
Perhaps a tale you 'll make it.

One summer-day I chanced to see
This Old Man doing all he could
To unearth the root of an old tree,
A stump of rotten wood.

The mattock tottered in his hand;

So vain was his endeavour,

That at the root of the old tree
He might have worked for ever.

"You're overtasked, good Simon Lee,
Give me your tool," to him I said;
And at the word right gladly he
Received my proffered aid.

I struck, and with a single blow
The tangled root I severed,

At which the poor Old Man so long
And vainly had endeavoured.

The tears into his eyes were brought,

And thanks and praises seemed to run
So fast out of his heart, I thought
They never would have done.

-I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds

With coldness still returning,

Alas! the gratitude of men

Hath oftener left me mourning.

XII.

INCIDENT

CHARACTERISTIC OF A FAVOURITE DOG.

ON his morning rounds the Master
Goes to learn how all things fare;
Searches pasture after pasture,
Sheep and cattle eyes with care;
And for silence or for talk,

He hath comrades in his walk;

Four dogs, each pair of different breed, Distinguished two for scent, and two for speed.

See a hare before him started!

Off they fly in earnest chase;

Every dog is eager-hearted,

All the four are in the race:
And the hare whom they pursue,

Hath an instinct what to do ;

Her hope is near: no turn she makes;

But, like an arrow, to the river takes.

Deep the River was, and crusted

Thinly by a one night's frost;

But the nimble Hare hath trusted

To the ice, and safely crost;

She hath crost, and without heed

All are following at full speed,

When, lo! the ice, so thinly spread,

Breaks and the Greyhound, DART, is over head!

Better fate have PRINCE and SWALLOW

See them cleaving to the sport!

MUSIC has no heart to follow,

Little MUSIC, she stops short.

She hath neither wish nor heart,
Hers is now another part :

A loving Creature she, and brave!

And fondly strives her struggling Friend to save.

From the brink her paws she stretches,

Very hands as you would say!

And afflicting moans she fetches,

As he breaks the ice away.
For herself she hath no fears,

Him alone she sees and hears,

Makes efforts and complainings; nor gives o'er Until her Fellow sank, and re-appeared no more.

XIII.

TRIBUTE

TO THE MEMORY OF THE SAME DOG.

LIE here, without a record of thy worth,
Beneath a covering of the common earth!
It is not from unwillingness to praise,

Or want of love, that here no Stone we raise ;
More thou deserv'st; but this Man gives to Man,
Brother to Brother, this is all we can.

Yet they to whom thy virtues made thee dear
Shall find thee through all changes of the year:
This Oak points out thy grave; the silent Tree
Will gladly stand a monument of thee.

I grieved for thee, and wished thy end were past; And willingly have laid thee here at last:

For thou hadst lived, till every thing that cheers
In thee had yielded to the weight of years;