Will spring anew ere long--it is not dead,
'Tis only beaten to the breast of earth!
Let the storm rage--be calm--'twill lift its head
Some stiller hour!




LITTLEWIT AND LOFTUS.


John Littlewit, friends, was a _credulous_ man.
In the good time long ago,
Ere men had gone wild o'er the latter-day dream
Of turning the world upside down with steam,
Or of chaining the lightning down to a wire,
And making it talk with its tongue of fire.

He was perfectly sure that the world stood still,
And the sun and moon went round;--
He believed in fairies, and goblins ill,
And witches that rode over vale and hill
On wicked broom-sticks, studying still
Mischief and craft profound.

"What a fool was John Littlewit!" somebody cries;--
Nay, friend, not so fast, if you please!
A humble man was John Littlewit--
A gentle, loving man;
He clothed the needy, the hungry fed,