MARY GARVIN. 255 "God be praised!" said Goodwife Garvin, “He taketh, and he gives; He woundeth, but he healeth; in her child our daughter lives.” "Amen!" the old man answered, as he brushed a tear away, And, kneeling by his hearth-stone, said, with rever"Let us pray." ence, All its Oriental symbols, and its Hebrew paraphrase, Warm with earnest life and feeling, rose his prayer of love and praise. But he started at beholding, as he rose from off his knee, The stranger cross his forehead with the sign of Papistrie. "What is this?" cried Farmer Garvin. English Christian's home "Is an A chapel or a mass-house, that you make the sign of Rome ? " Then the young girl knelt beside him, kissed his trembling hand, and cried : "O, forbear to chide my father; in that faith my mother died! "On her wooden cross at Simcoe the dews and sunshine fall, As they fall on Spurwink's graveyard; and the dear God watches all!" The old man stroked the fair head that rested on his knee; Your words, dear child," he answered, "are God's rebuke to me. "Creed and rite perchance may differ, yet our faith and hope be one: Let me be your father's father, let him be to me a son. When the horn, on Sabbath morning, through the still and frosty air, From Spurwink, Pool, and Black Point, called to sermon and to prayer, To the goodly house of worship, where, in order due and fit, As by public vote directed, classed and ranked the people sit; Mistress first and goodwife after, clerkly squire before the clown, From the brave coat, lace-embroidered, to the gray frock, shading down; From the pulpit read the preacher: "Goodman Garvin and his wife Fain would thank the Lord, whose kindness has followed them through life, "For the great and crowning mercy, that their daughter, from the wild, Where she rests (they hope in God's peace), has sent to them her child "And the prayers of all God's people they ask that they may prove Not unworthy, through their weakness, of such special proof of love." As the preacher prayed, uprising, the aged couple stood, And the fair Canadian also, in her modest maiden hood. MAUD MULLER. 257 Thought the elders, grave and doubting, " She is Papist born and bred; Thought the young men, "'Tis an angel in Mary Garvin's stead!" MAUD MULLER. MAUD MULLER, on a summer's day, Beneath her torn hat glowed the wealth Singing, she wrought, and her merry glee But, when she glanced to the far-off town, The sweet song died, and a vague unrest A wish, that she hardly dared to own, The Judge rode slowly down the lane, He drew his bridle in the shade And ask a draught from the spring that flowed She stooped where the cool spring bubbled up, And blushed as she gave it, looking down "Thanks!" said the Judge, "a sweeter draught From a fairer hand was never quaffed." He spoke of the grass and flowers and trees, Then talked of the haying, and wondered whether The cloud in the west would bring foul weather. And Maud forgot her brier-torn gown, And listened, while a pleased surprise At last, like one who for delay Maud Muller looked and sighed: "Ah, me! "He would dress me up in silks so fine, "My father should wear a broadcloth coat; My brother should sail a painted boat. "I'd dress my mother so grand and gay, And the baby should have a new toy each day “And I'd feed the hungry and clothe the poor, And all should bless me who left our door." MAUD MULLER. The Judge looked back as he climbed the hill, "A form more fair, a face more sweet, Ne'er hath it been my lot to meet. "And her modest answer and graceful air Show her wise and good as she is fair. "Would she were mine, and I to-day, Like her, a harvester of hay: “No doubtful balance of rights and wrongs, "But low of cattle and song of birds, But he thought of his sisters proud and cold, So, closing his heart, the Judge rode on, But the lawyers smiled that afternoon, And the young girl mused beside the well, He wedded a wife of richest dower, Yet oft, in his marble hearth's bright glow, And sweet Maud Muller's hazel eyes 259 |