'Tis night! and though on royal couch Ahashverosh now lies,

He vainly woos the god of sleep to close his weary

eyes.

"Bring in the chronicled events," the King now gives command,

"And thus amuse my waking thoughts with actions, as they stand."

Then heard the King how Mordecai his life from ruffian spared,

"What honor has been done for this?" "Yet nothing," they declared.

Then asked the King of Haman, "What shall in reward be done

To him who hath my royal grace and honor justly won ?"

And when the monarch heard, he cried, "Take Mordecai the Jew,

And all the honors thou hast planned, make haste thee, quick to do."

Now at the second banquet, Queen Esther makes re

quest:

"I ask my life from out thy hand, My people at be

quest.

"For we are sold! both I and they; not for bondman o'er the land,

But utterly to be destroyed, cast out, and slain, 'tis planned."

Then rose the King in fury: "Whose bold plan this?" he cried,

"Behold him!" whispers Esther, "for 'tis Haman, at thy side."

"Appease mine anger, let him hang full fifty cubits high!"

'Tis done; and messengers off speed, the Jews' release

is nigh.

Their sorrow now to joy is turned, and long shall Esther's name

Illumined shine in Israel's heart with faith's undying

fame.

MYRTILLA E. MITCHELL.

Mordecai

Esther vii. 1-10; viii. 15

"NOW say, my queen,” the monarch cries,

"What boon dost thou demand?

Be it the half of my kingdom's worth,
'Tis given to thy hand."

"O king, had all my race been sold
To bondage-and to shame,

No murmur from my lip had passed
My sovereign's deed to blame;

"But sold to slaughter, doomed to death,

I pour my humble prayer;

Oh, let thy royal clemency

My guiltless kindred spare!"

"And who, my queen, hath dared the deed?"
"Behold, our ruthless foe!

'Tis Haman whets the murd'rous steel

And aims the fatal blow."

The king is wroth: the traitor shrinks;

The stern command is given:

Bound and condemned they bear him forth

To feed the fowls of heaven.

A gallows, by his impious hand

For Mordecai designed,

Receives the tyrant's struggling form,

And gives him to the wind.

Haman, thy wife hath well foretold
The dark intent will fail;
Against Jehovah's chosen fold

Thou never couldst prevail.

Who comes? His costly garments wave
In many a purple fold,

Blest with the purest white; he wears
A crown of burnished gold.

It is the Jew-'tis Mordecai,
Type of his ransomed race;
For shame is double honor given,
And glory for disgrace.

Such, Israel, is thy future lot,
Purged in refining fires;

Queens shall thy nursing mothers be,
And kings thy nursing sires.

And thou, in means and mercies rich,
Loved Albion, happy land,
For Judah bend the suppliant knee,
And work with willing hand.

Oh, help thine elder brother's need,
Bid him thy blessings share,

Nor let him perish at thy gate

While thou hast bread to spare!

ANONYMOUS.

MAR

Mordecai

AKE friends with him! He is of royal line, Although he sits in rags. Not all of thine Array of splendor, pomp of high estate, Can buy him from his place within the gate, The King's gate of thy happiness, where he, Yes, even he, the Jew, remaineth free,

Never obeisance making, never scorn
Betraying of thy silver and new-born
Delight. Make friends with him, for unawares
The charmed secret of thy joys he bears;
Be glad, so long as his black sackcloth, late
And early, thwarts thy sun; for if in hate
Thou plottest for his blood, thy own death cry,
Not his, comes from the gallows cubits high.
HELEN HUNT JACKSON.

Purim

COME, quaff the brimming festal glass!

Bring forth the good old cheer!

For Esther's Feast has come at last,-
Most gladsome in the year.

And now, when hearts beat glad and free,
Come gather all about,

And tell once more how, long since, He
Did put our foe to rout.

Full oft has beauty ruled a land
And held its sceptred sway;
Full often foiled th' avenging hand,
And bade oppression stay.

But ne'er did beauty so avail,
As when fair Esther's charm
'Gainst vengeful Haman did prevail
To 'fend the Jews from harm.

So all the dire impending woe
That hovered o'er their head,
Did light upon their ruthless foe
And ruined him, instead.

And thus, throughout the ages long,
In every land and clime,

They chant an old thanksgiving song
E'er mindful of that time.

Yea, Israel's Guardian never sleeps,—
No slumber to His eye!-

But loving watch He ever keeps

Upon his flock from high.

C. DAVID MATT.

A Purim Retrospect

I

COME tell us the story again,

You told us when we were young,
Of Esther, the great Jewish queen,
And Haman the one they hung;
And how the tables were turned,
And Mordecai came to be great,
How he won the respect of the king,
Though sprung from low estate.

II

We clustered around the broad table,

On which all the dainties were spread,
And the rays seemed as soft as moonbeams,
From the seven star lamp overhead;'
And we seemed once more to be children,
Aglowing with youthful glee,

The youngest-a baby of twenty,
Perched up on his mother's knee.

III

Well, father read out the Megillah,

We knew it all, through and through,

Though it's wonderful, how in that small book, One always finds something that's new;