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Said  his  sister’s  angel  to  the  leader,  “ Is  my brother  come ?  !*
                             And  he said,  "  Nay,  but his  maiden  daughter !  ”
                             And  the  man  who  had  been  a  child,, saw  his  daughter,  newly  lost
                          to  him,  a  celestial  creature  among  those  three,  and  he  said:   “  My
                           daughter’s  head  is  on  my  sister's  bosom,  and  her arm  is  around  my
                           mother’s  neck,  and  at  her feet.  is  the  baby  of  old  time,  and  I  can  bear
                           the  parting  from  her,  God  be praised!  ”— and  the  star  was  shining.
                             Thus  the  child  came  to  be  an  old  man,  and  his  once  .smooth  face
                           was  wrinkled,  and  his  steps  were  slow  and  feeble,  and  his back  was
                           bent.   And  one  night  as  he  lay  upon  his  bed,  his  children  standing
                           round,  he  cried,  as  he  cried  so  long  ago :  “ T  see  the  star!  "
                             They  whispered  one  another,  ” lie   is  dying.”   And  he  said,  “ I  am.
                           M3?  age  is  falling  from  me like  a  garment, and  I  move towards  the  star
                          as  a  child.   And  O,  my  Father,  now  I  thank  Thee  that  it  has  so  often
                           opened  to  receive  those  dear  ones  who  await  me! ”
                             i W   ‘he  star  was  shining;  and  it  shines  upon  his  grave.
                                                                              C h a r l e s  D ic k e n s


                                                    HILDA,  SPINNING.

                                     [THt; figures refer  to the corresponding numbeni in Pari.  I,]
                                                 PTXNING,  spinning, by  the  sea,
                                                         A ll the  night!
                                                   On  a  stormy,  rock-ribbed  shore/
                                             Where the  north-winds  downward pour,
                                             And  the tempests  fiercely  sweep21
                                             h’rotn  the  mountains  to  the  deep,
                                             Hilda  spins  beside  the  sea,
                                                      All  the  night!

                                             Spinning,  a*  her  lonely  window,
                                                      By  the sea  !
                                             With  her  candle burning clear,
                                             Every  night of all the  year,
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