THE MODERN SAMARITAN.
(Adapted from Luke, x.)

A certain man went down to York-
Perhaps to see the busy town
Perhaps he went in search of work:
But certain 'tis, he ran aground,

Among the thieves of York.

At midnight hour they gave him beer, Envenomed with vile "knockout drops;" They beat him to his death, quite near, Then robbed him of his purse and watch, And threw him in the street.

The sun, next morning, rose less clear, And looked in pity on the scene, While Nature stooped to drop a tear O'er him, who all his life had been An honest workingman.

A deacon of a church up-town,

Came rolling by, in th' morning gray

He saw the man, and with a frown,
Quick reined his steed across the way,
And passed, on the other side.

A learned "D. D." came next along-
A man who from the sacred desk,
Essays to prove by logic strong,
That God's own Book is not the best
That could have been produced:

He saw the bruised and prostrate form,
Yet raised no kindly hand to aid;
But turned away with look of scorn,
And passing by, contemptuous said,
"It is the work of Rum!"

Next came a coal man, with his cart,

Whose face the grime of labor bore; Yet 'neath whose coat, there beat a heart As warm as human breast e'er wore He paused, to view the scene.

That kindly heart, a fellow man-
A stranger saw, in deep distress:
A father, whose dear ones, e'en then,
Might waiting be for his caress,

When he should safe return.

-

With tender care that son of toil

Knelt by the prostrate stranger's side, And tho' he lacked the "wine and oil," Yet in his unskilled way, he tried

To bind the wounds disclosed.

With careful hand, he placed him in
His humble cab, and drove away;
That in his own home, he might win
Him back to life again, that day,
And spare him to his friends.

Which now, was neighbor-of the three,
To him that fell among the thieves?
Sure he that mercy showed, must be
The man who in your heart receives

The verdict-one day prized!

That day, when at His just decrees, Men from before His face shall flee:"For inasmuch as not to these,

Ye likewise did it not to Me,

DEPART! I KNOW YOU NOT!"

THE RESCUE, AND THE SAVED.

Night's shadows rest upon the deep, The earth is wrapt in sleep profound; While angel bands their vigils keep, The watchman walks his lonely round.

A lurid light attracts his gaze

"Sure that is not the waning moon!" Still brighter grows the humid haze -"Has morning dawn arrived so soon?"

"Tis Fire! Fire! Some home's on fire!
Call the brave laddies for the fight!
Its flames are leaping high and higher-
Quick lads! a home's in flames to-night!

The fight is on-the swish and hum, The hiss of steam, and shouts of men, Proclaim the conflict has begun

But hear that cry-again! again!

It breaks upon the midnight air,

In thrilling tones, and accents wild

"My child is up that burning stair! Oh save! oh, save my darling child!"

"I'll go! I'll go!" a brave lad cries : "Boys, keep a stream lightly on me!”With eager haste, aloft he hies,

The flame-imprisoned child to free.

Oh dread suspense !-But look-up there!
The child, wrapt snugly from all harm,
Is borne adown that blazing stair,
And safely laid in its mother's arms.

A shout goes up, but the "Well done!"
Thrills not the hero's failing ear;
The burned and dying form sinks down,
While angels bend, these words to hear:

"Mother! Savior!-coming!-com-' And flown to Him by whom 'twas given, A hero-soul-its life work done,

Has joined th' angelic hosts of Heaven.