r husband from the saddle springs,
And clasps her to his breast;
And on her icy lip and brow
The kiss of love was pressed.

"How is our son?" the father cried;
In his, her hand she placed,
And through their gorgeous, darkened halls,
Their silent way they traced.

Nor stopped, until they reached his side,
Who yesterday, in health,--
The mother's joy, the father's pride,--
Was heir to all their wealth.

The mother folded back the screen,
And said, "There lays our child;"
Then overcome with bursting grief,
They wept in accents wild.

They laid him in a marble tomb,
With all that wealth could show;
But deeply in their castled home
Dark rolled the tide of woe.

Picture No. II.

The midnight moon, with pallid beams,
From eastern sky again
Look'd forth, and shed her fitful gleams
On mountain, hill and plain.

And far upon the moaning sea,
She threw her mellow light;
And tossing waves, and heaving spray,
Were gemm'd with diamonds bright.

But oft a fitful shadow came,
And rested like a shroud;
For, o'er her bright and tranquil face;
Stole many a passing cloud.

The night winds moan'd, and plaintive sigh'd,
O'er mountain, sea and vale,
And whistled round a lowly cot,
Where sat a mother, pale.

Her raven hair was parted smooth
Upon her forehead high;
And though her face was pale with care,
Yet mildly beamed her eye.

And beauty left a ling'ring trace,
Upon each feature there;
Which, with sweet dignity and grace,
Blended with ev'ry air.

A feeble taper dimly burn'd,
As swift her task she plied,
And oft her anxious gaze was turn'd
Where, nestled by her side,--

On a low pallet, sleeping lay
A darling, cherub boy,
With curling hair and azure eyes,
His mother's only joy.

Calm was his sleep; but starting once,
Half springing from his bed,
He spake, in accents faint and low,
"O, mother, give me bread."

And then her task she quicker plied,--
The starting tear repressed,
And, "Oh, my God!" she meekly cried,
"Protect the fatherless."

And so she toil'd, till morning spread
Her earliest tints of gray
Across the distant, eastern sky,
Then kneeling down to pray

Beside the little, lowly cot,
Her soul in trust was giv'n,
Unto that kindly Father's care,
Who look'd and heard from Heaven.