A Book for the Young

by Sarah French

And thunder hurling round him—for his hand

Would not be idle amid deeds of glory;

Yes glory—glory—glory is the word—

See how it glitters all along the street!—

And then she laughs, and wildly leaps along

With tresses all untied. Fair wretch—adieu:

In mercy—heaven thy shattered peace repair.

—FAWCETT.

[ "GOD DOETH ALL THINGS WELL." ]

I remember how I loved her, as a little guileless child;