y side,
The ship is sinking beneath the tide.

But, even in his dying fear,
One dreadful sound could the Rover hear,--
A sound as if with the Inchcape Bell
The Devil below was ringing his knell.

ROBERT SOUTHEY.

THE FINDING OF THE LYRE.

Once a year my pupils teach me "The Finding of the Lyre." By the time I
have learned it they know the meaning of every line and have caught the
spirit of the verse. There is an ancient "lyre," or violin, made in
northern Africa, in the possession of a Boston lady, and I have found
the mud-turtle rattle among the Indians on the Indian reservation at
Syracuse, New York. They use it as a musical instrument in their
Thanksgiving dances. The poem helps to build an interest in history and
mythology while it develops a child's reverence and insight. (1819-91.)

There lay upon the ocean's shore
What once a tortoise served to cover;
A year and more, with rush and roar,
The surf had rolled it over,
Had played with it, and flung it by,
As wind and weather might decide it,
Then tossed it high where sand-drifts dry
Cheap burial might provide it.

It rested there to bleach or tan,
The rains had soaked, the sun had burned it;
With many a ban the fisherman
Had stumbled o'er and spurned it;
And there the fisher-girl would stay,
Conjecturing with her brother
How in their play the poor estray
Might serve some use or other.

So there it lay, through wet and dry,
As empty as the last new sonnet,
Till by and by came Mercury,
And, having mused upon it,
"Why, here," cried he, "the thing of things
In shape, material, and dimension!
Give it but strings, and, lo, it sings,
A wonderful invention!"

So said, so done; the chords he strained,
And, as his fingers o'er them hovered,
The shell disdained a soul had gained,
The lyre had been discovered.
O empty world that round us lies,
Dead shell, of soul and thought forsaken,
Brought we but eyes like Mercury's,
In thee what songs should waken!

JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.

A CHRYSALIS.

"A Chrysalis" is a favourite poem with John Burroughs, and is found,
too, in Stedman's collection. We all come to a point in life where we
need to burst the shell and fly away into the new realm. (1835-98.)

My little Maedchen found one d