An' when you hear the great bugle's notes,
An' the Lord divides his sheep and goats;
However they may settle my case,
Wherever they may fix my place,
My good old Christian mother, you'll see,
Will be sure to stand right up for me,
With _over the hill from the poor-house_.
_Will Carleton_.
* * * * *
THE WORLD FROM THE SIDEWALK.
Did you ever stand in the crowded street,
In the glare of a city lamp,
And list to the tread of the millions feet
In their quaintly musical tramp?
As the surging crowd go to and fro,
'Tis a pleasant sight, I ween,
To mark the figures that come and go
In the ever-changing scene.
Here the publican walks with the sinner proud,
And the priest in his gloomy cowl,
And Dives walks in the motley crowd
With Lazarus, cheek by jowl;
And the daughter of toil with her fresh young heart
As pure as her spotless fame,
Keeps step with the woman who makes her mart
In the haunts of sin and shame.
How lightly trips the country lass
In the midst of the city's ills,
As freshly pure as the daisied grass
That grows on her native hills;
And the beggar, too, with his hungry eye,
And his lean, wan face and crutch,
Gives a blessing the same to the passer-by
As they give him little or much.
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