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A citizen of Roman rights,
Silver and golden store,
But stain the marble floor."
So rose the Amphitheatre,
Tower and arch and tier ;
Within that ring of fear.
And strong their human love,
eyes of faith, undimmed, were fixed On temples far above.
And thousands gazed, in brutal joy,
To watch the Christians die,But one beside Vespasian leaned,
With a strange light in his eye.
As on that group he gazed,
Upon his dark soul blazed !
Had he by password gained access,
To the dark catacomb,
Beyond the rack, the tomb ?
"My priceless architect,
Thy privilege elect,
A free made citizen of Rome."
Calmly Gaudentis rose,
Turned to the Saviour's foes;
With Life and Death in view, The fearless architect exclaimed,
"I am a Christian too,”
Only a few brief moments passed,
And brave Gaudentis lay
A lifeless mass of clay.
Of proud Imperial Rome;
Beneath Heaven's cloudless dome.
HE woman was old, and ragged and gray,
And bent with the chill of a Winter's day ; The streets were white with a recent snow, And the woman's feet with age were slow.
Faint was the voice, and worn and weak,
Ave, call it holy ground,
The soil where first they trod!
Freedom to worship God !
XIX.-THE DYING SOLDIER.
SHAPLAIN, I am dying, dying; “Do not weep, I pray you, chaplain;
Cut a lock from off my hair, Yes, ah ! weep for mother dear;
Of a widow'd mourner here ;
To the land where angels dwell ; Soothe and comfort the poor soldier I commend you unto Jesus :
With the death dew on his brow! Mother darling-fare you well!”
“Kneel down, now, beside me, chaplain, Downward from their thrones of beauty And return my thanks to Him
Look”d the stars upon his face;
Sped the angel of God's grace.
To his blessed home above. Through the valley of the shadow The dead soldier's soul immortal,
I have gone, with Christ to dwell ! To partake of Christ's sweet love.
Far away, in humble cottage,
Sits his mother, sad and lone;
Cast a shadow o'er her brow;
She is with her loved ones now !
XX.-THE ORPHAN BOY.
TAY, Lady! stay for mercy's sake,
And hear a helpless Orphan's tale!
'Tis want that makes my cheek so pale.
And my brave father's hope and joy ;
And I am now an Orphan Boy!
When news of Nelson's victory came,
And see the lighted windows flame!
She could not bear to see my joy,
And made me a poor Orphan Boy.
My mother, shuddering, closed her ears,
My mother answered with her tears.
“Why are you crying thus,” said I,
“While others laugh, and shout with joy?"" She kissed me, and, with such a sigh,
She called me her poor Orphan Boy!
When, suddenly, she gasped for breath ;
But, ah! her eyes were closed in death !
And I'm no more a parent's joy;
What 'tis to be an Orphan Boy !
Oh ! were I by your bounty fed
Nay, gentle Lady, do not chide ;
The sailor's orphan boy has pride!
You'll give me clothing, food, employ?
Your happy, happy Orphan Boy !
W. L. SPENCER.
HE spearman heard the bugle sound, and cheerly smiled the morn
And many a brach, and many a hound, attend Llewellyn's horn ; And still he blew a louder blast, and gave a louder cheer; “Come, Gelert! why art thou the last Llewellyn's horn to hear ? Oh, where does faithful Gelert roam ? the flower of all his race ! So true, so brave ! a lamb at home—a lion in the chase !!!
'Twas only at Llewelly'ns board the faithful Gelert fed ;
And now, as over rocks and dells the gallant chidings rise,