rks wonders--indeed,
the only miracles left in the world are of his creation."

"But she used to wonder at Mary Morton's liking him, mamma."

"Ah, my dear," replied her mother, "that was when he was attentive to
Mary Morton and not her. It makes a wonderful difference when the
thing becomes personal. And if you really love Angila, my dear, you
will forget, or at least not repeat, what she said six months before
marriage."

A NEW ENGLAND LEGEND

BY CAROLINE F. ORNE.

[The subject of the following ballad may be found in the "Christus
Super Aquas" of Mather's Magnalia.]

"God's blessing on the bonny barque!" the gallant seamen cried,
As with her snowy sails outspread she cleft the yielding tide--
"God's blessing on the bonny barque!" cried the landsmen from the shore,
As with a swallow's rapid flight she skimmed the waters o'er.
Oh never from the good old Bay, a fairer ship did sail,
Or in more trim and brave array did court the favoring gale.
Cheerily sung the marinere as he climbed the high, high mast,
The mast that was made of the Norway pine, that scorned the mountain-blast.
But brave Mark Edward dashed a tear in secret from his eye,
As he saw green Trimount dimmer grow against the distant sky,
And fast before the gathering breeze his noble vessel fly.
Oh, youth will cherish many a hope, and many a fond desire,
And nurse in secret in the heart the hidden altar-fire!
And though young Mark Edward trode his deck with footstep light and free,
Yet a shadow was on his manly brow as his good ship swept the sea;
A shadow was on his manly brow as he marked the fading shore,
And the faint line of the far green hills where dwelt his loved Lenore.
Merrily sailed the bonny barque toward her destined port,
And the white waves curled around her prow as if in wanton sport.
Merrily sailed the bonny barque till seven days came and past,
When her snowy canvas shivered and rent before the northern blast,
And out of her course, and away, away, careered she wild and fast.
Black lowered the heavens, loud howled the winds, as the gallant barque
drove on,
"God save her from the stormy seas," prayed the sailors every one,
But hither and thither the mad winds bore her, careening wildly on.
Oh, a fearful thing is the mighty wind as it raves the land along,
And the forests rock beneath the shock of the fierce blasts and the strong,
But when the wild and angry waves come