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A citizen of Roman rights,

Silver and golden store,
These shall be thine ; let Christian blood

But stain the marble floor."

So rose the Amphitheatre,

Tower and arch and tier ;
There dawned a day when martyrs stood

Within that ring of fear.
But strong their quenchless trust in God,

And strong their human love,
Their

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.
What thoughts welled up within his breast,

As on that group he gazed,
What gleams of holy light from heaven,

Upon his dark soul blazed !

Had he by password gained access,

To the dark catacomb,
And learned the hope of Christ's beloved,

Beyond the rack, the tomb ?
The proud Vespasian o'er him bends,

"My priceless architect,
To-day I will announce to all

Thy privilege elect,

A free made citizen of Rome."

Calmly Gaudentis rose,
And folding, o'er his breast, his arms,

Turned to the Saviour's foes;
And in a strength not all his own,

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
Within the amphitheatre,

A lifeless mass of clay.
Vespasian promised him the rights

Of proud Imperial Rome;
But Christ with martyrs crowned him King,

Beneath Heaven's cloudless dome.

XVII.-SOMEBODY'S MOTHER.

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.

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Faint was the voice, and worn and weak,
But heaven lists when its chosen speak;
Angels caught the faltering word,
And “Somebody's Mother's” prayer was heard.

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Ave, call it holy ground,

The soil where first they trod!
They have left unstained what there they found-

Freedom to worship God !

XIX.-THE DYING SOLDIER.

66

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;
For my darling mother, chaplain, I'm the only living son, sir,
After I am dead, to wear ;

Of a widow'd mourner here ;
Mind you, 'tis for mother, chaplain, Mother! I am going, going
She whose early teachings now

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;
Who so good a mother gave me; Upward on the wings of duty
Oh, my eyes are growing dim !

Sped the angel of God's grace.
Tell her, chaplain, should you see her, Bearing through the heavenly portal,
All at last with me was well ;

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;
And her eyes are red with weeping,
Thinking of her absent son ;
Suddenly Death's pallid presence

Cast a shadow o'er her brow;
Smiling a sweet smile of welcome,

She is with her loved ones now !

XX.-THE ORPHAN BOY.

MRS. OPIE

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TAY, Lady! stay for mercy's sake,

And hear a helpless Orphan's tale!
Ah! sure, my looks must pity wake,

'Tis want that makes my cheek so pale.
Yet I was once a mother's pride,

And my brave father's hope and joy ;
But in the Nile's proud fight he died-

And I am now an Orphan Boy!
Poor, foolish child! how pleased was I,

When news of Nelson's victory came,
Along the crowded streets to fly,

And see the lighted windows flame!
To force me home my mother sought ;

She could not bear to see my joy,
For with my father's life 'twas bought-

And made me a poor Orphan Boy.
The people's shouts were long and loud

My mother, shuddering, closed her ears,
"Rejoice! rejoice !” still cried the crowd ;

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!
“What is an orphan boy?" I said,

When, suddenly, she gasped for breath ;
And her eyes closed—I shrieked for aid.

But, ah! her eyes were closed in death !
And now they've tolled my mother's knell,

And I'm no more a parent's joy;
O Lady! I have learned too well

What 'tis to be an Orphan Boy !

Oh ! were I by your bounty fed

Nay, gentle Lady, do not chide ;
Trust me, I mean to earn my bread;

The sailor's orphan boy has pride!
Lady, you weep !-Ha !—this to me?

You'll give me clothing, food, employ?
Look down, dear parents, look and see

Your happy, happy Orphan Boy !

XXI.-BETH GELERT.

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 ;
He watched, he served, he cheered his lord, and sentinel'd his bed
In sooth, he was a peerless hound, the gift of royal John ;-
But now no Gelert could be found, and all the chase rode on.

And now, as over rocks and dells the gallant chidings rise,
All Snowdon's craggy chaos yells with many mingled cries,
That day Llewellyn little loved the chasc of hart or hare,
And scant and small the booty proved—for Gelert was not there.
Unpleased Llewellyn homeward hied ;----when, near the portal seat,
His truant Gelert he espied, bounding his Lord to greet.
But when he gained the castle door, aghast the chieftain stood ;
The hound was smeared with gouts of gore ; his lips and fangs ran blood !
Llewellyn gazed with wild surprise, unused such looks so meet ;
His favourite checked his joyful guise, and crouched and licked his feet.
Onward in hast Llewellyn passed—and on went Gelert too !
And still, where'er his eyes were cast, fresh blood-gouts shocked his view !
O'erturned his infant's bed he found ! the blood-stained covert rent;
And all around the walls and ground with recent blood besprent !
He called his child—no voice replied ! he searched with terror wild,

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