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THE SPIDER AND THE TOAD. OOME author (no great matter who Provided what he says be true), Relates he saw, with hostile rage, A spider and a toad engage : For though with poison both are stored, Each by the other is abhorr'd It seems as if their common venom Provoked an enmity between 'em. Implacable, malicious, cmel, Like modern hero in a duel, The spider darted on his foe, Infixing death at every blow. The toad, by ready instinct taught, An antidote, when wounded, sought, From the herb plantain, growing near, Well known to toads its virtues rare, The spider's poison to repel;— It cropp'd the leaf, and soon was well. This remedy it often tried, And all the spider's rage defied. The person who the contest vievy'd^ While yet the battle doubtful stood, Removed the healing plant away, And thus the spider gained the day. For when the toad return'd once more Wounded, as it had done before, To seek relief, and found it not, It swell'd and died upon the spot. In every circumstr.nce but one (Could that hold too, I were undone), No glasa can represent my face More justly than this tale my case. The toad's an emblem of m. heart, And Satan acts the spider's part; Envenom'd by his poison, I Am often at the point to die ; But He who hung upon the tree, From guilt and woe to set me free, Is like the plantain leaf to me. To him my wounded soul repairs, He knows my pains and hears my pray'rs; From him I virtue draw by faith, Which saves me from the jaws of death; From him fresh life arid strength I gain, And Satan spends his rage iv vain. No secret arts or open force Can rob me of this sure resource; Though banished to some distant land, My med'cine would be still at hand; Though foolish men its worth deny, Experience gives them all the lie; Though Deists and Socinians join,, Jesus still lives, and Htill is mine. 'Tis heils the happy difference lies, My Saviour reigns above the skies, Yet to. my soul is always near, For he is God, and eve"rywhp,re. His blood a sovereign balm, is found For every grief and every wound; And Booner all the hUk shall rlee And hide themselves beneath the sea, Or ocean, starting from its bed, Rush o'er th.c cloud-topt mountain's head; xhe sun, exhausted of its light, Baoome the source of endless night, And rain spread from pole to pole, %bm Jesus fait, the; tesnpted.souJU
THE MAIDEN FISH-TAMER.
Oh maiden of the woods and wave, With footsteps in the morning dew! From oozy bed and. watery cave, The tenants ot the lake who drew, Thy voice of love the mystery knew, Which makes old bards and prophets true. They tell us of .that better day, When love shall rule the world again ; When crime .and fraud shall pass away, And beast and bird shall dwell with men; When seas shall many with the land, And fishes kiss a maiden's hand. The iron age has done its best With trump and sword and warriors slain; But could not tame the eagle's nest, , ETqr lead.,the lion by the mane ; _ With all i'tsitrcngth and with all its woe, There was un art it did not know. "Iwas fitting that a maid like thee, In childhood's bright and happy hour, Should teach the world the mystery That innocence alone has power; That love the victory can gain, Which is not won by millions slain. Oh man, if thou would'sfc know the art The shatter'dWorld to reinstate, Like her put on a loving heart, And throw away the guile and hate. A maid shall tell thee how 't is done, A child shall show the victory won. Ufham. A pew years ago I read in a newspaper that the fishes in a certain pond had been tamed, and brought back again, at least in some degree, into the original association with humanity. Being at leisure at a certain time, and having some curiosity to ascertain the truth of this statement, I embarked in a boat in Boston harbor, and in the boat I went down to Hingham. It was near night. Next morning, and quite early in the morning, I went towards the pond, which was said to be the theatre of this interesting and unprecedented state of things. I recollect that I went through a long piece of woods, which was without habitations, and which, in its tranquility andbeauty, was favorable to benevolent dispositions and thoughts. The early sun-beams were playing with the dew-drops; and the birds were singing in the branches. After passing through the woods and coming in sight of the pond of water, I went to a farmer's ihouse not far from it. I knocked, and a wood-looking woman, with that intelligent and benevolent aspect which marks the women of America, came to the door. Making such apology as I was able for a visit so early, I remarked that I had come for the purpose of seeing the fishes in the neighboring pond, which were said to be tamed. Readily accepting my explanations she pointed to a place on the brink of the water, and said that one of her children would soon come down there. I had not stood there long before a little girl, apparently anxious not to detain me, came running down. She seated herself on a rock on the shore and looked into the mirror of the morning waters, which reflected back the delightful image of her innocent beauty. She called to the fishes; calling them sometimes by the names of their tribes and sometimes by particular names which she had given them. There was one, a large one, which she called Cato. But Cato was in no hurry to come. She said it was rather early for them. They had not yet left their places of slumber. But repeating still more loudly the invitation of her sweet voice, they began to make their appearance. The smaller ones came first, and then the larger ones of many varieties; and at last Cato who was a sort of a king and counsellor in this finny congregation, came among them. Delighted with this renewed visit of their virgin queen, although they seemed to be conscious it was rather early in the morning, they thrust their heads above the water; and she fed them from her hand. And I fed them also. Observing something peculiar at a little distance in the water, I was surprised to see two turtles making their way towards her. Her voice of affection had penetrated beneath their dark hard shells. And I noticed that they came with great effort and zeal, as if afraid of being too late at the festival of love. One of them, as soon as they reached the shore, scrampled out of the water, and climbed upon the rock beside her. And she fed them both. I shall not easily forget this interesting scene ;— this little episode of millennial humanity. It will not be considered surprising, 1 hope, that I entered into conversation with this affectionate and charming girl. In the course of our conversation, she told me she once had a brother, a little older than herself, who aided her in taming the fishes. But he was now dead. This too touched my feeling. How sad it was, thought Ito myself, for such a sister to part with such a brother. But she spoke of her brother in such a way, that his benevolent spirit seemed to be not far distant; but to fill the air and be with us and around us where we stood.
Nautical Cons.—" Can any of you tell me when a ship may be said to be in love ?" said old Hurricane. " I can tell—l can," snapped out little Turtle, " it's when she wants to be manned." " Just missed it," quoth old Hurricane; "try again; who speaks first?" " I do, secondly," answered Lemons; " it's when she wants a mate." "Not correct," replied Hurricane, "the question is still open." "When she's a ship of great size" (sighs) modestly propounded Mr. Smoothly. " When she's tender to a man-of-war," said the colonel, regarding the reflection of his face in his boots, "Everything but correct," responded Hurricane; " come hurry along!" " When she makes much of a fast sailor," cried smashpipes. Here there was a great groan. When peace was restored old Hurricane " propelled " again: " You might have said, ' When she runs down after a smack,' • or * When she's after a consert,' or something ol that sort, but it wouldn't have been right. The real solution is ' When she's attached to a buoy.'" * Dawkter/ said an exquisite, the other day, ' I want you to tell me what I can put into my head to make it right? '• 'It wants nothing but brains,' said the physician,
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Colonist, Volume IV, Issue 314, 23 October 1860, Page 3
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1,489select poetrg. Colonist, Volume IV, Issue 314, 23 October 1860, Page 3
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