t you could play the gardener, and employ your royal hands in
planting trees?' 'Does that surprise you?' said Cyrus. 'I assure you,
that when my health permits, I never sit down to table without having
fatigued myself, either in military exercise, rural labour, or some
other toilsome employment, to which I apply myself with pleasure.'
Lysander, still more amazed, pressed Cyrus by the hand, and said: 'You
are truly happy, and deserve your high fortune, since you unite it
with virtue.'

UNDER THE PALMS.

BY CALDER CAMPBELL.

Under the palm-trees on India's shore
Ne'er shall I wander at morning or eve;
Hearts there have withered, but still in the core
Of mine springs the memory of feelings that give
Green thoughts in sunshine and bright hopes in gloom;
Friendship, which love's loud emotions becalms:
Oh, happy was I, in those bowers of perfume,
Under the palms!

Go forth, little children; the wood's insect-hum
Invites ye; expand there, like buds in the sun;
Leave schools and their studies for days that _will_ come,
And let thy first lessons from nature be won!
Teachings hath nature most sage and most sweet--
The music that swells in the tree-linnet's psalms;
So taught, my young heart learned to prize that retreat
Under the palms!

The odour of jasmines afloat on the breeze,
That woke in the dawning the birds on each bough;
The frolicsome squirrels, that scampered at case
'Mid lithe leaves and soft moss that smiled down below:
Heaps piled up of mangoes, all fragrant and rich;
Guavas pink-cored, such a wealth of sweet alms
Presented by bright maids, whose sweet songs bewitch
Under the palms!

Pale, yellow bananas, with satiny pulp
That tastes like some dainty of sugar and cream;
Blithe-kernelled pomegranates, just gathered to help
A feast fit to serve in the bowers of a dream!
Milk, foaming and snowy; rice, swelling and sweet;
Iced sherbet that cools, and spiced ginger that warms:
Oh, simple our banquet in that dear retreat
Under the palms!

A tinkling of lutes and a toning of voices--
Of young maiden voices just fresh from the bath;
A sprinkling of rosewater cool, that rejoices
The scented grass screening our bower from the path;
Trim baskets of melons, new gathered, beside
Fair bunches of blossoms that heal all sick qualms;