Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with hatred? 
Lo! where the crucified Christ from his cross is gazing upon you! 
See! in those sorrowful eyes what meekness and holy compassion! 
Hark! how those lips still repeat the prayer, ‘O Father, forgive them!’
Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked assail us,
Let us repeat it now, and say, ‘O Father, forgive them.’ "

Few were his words of rebuke, but deep in the hearts of his people
Sank they, and sobs of contrition succeeded the passionate outbreak,
While they repeated his prayer, and said, “O Father, forgive them!”

Note.—­Nova Scotia was first settled by the French, but, in 1713, was ceded to the English.  The inhabitants refusing either to take the oath of allegiance or to bear arms against their fellow-countrymen in the French and Indian War, it was decided to remove the whole people, and distribute them among the other British provinces.  This was accordingly done in 1755.  The villages were burned to the ground, and the people hurried on board the ships in such a way that but a few families remained undivided.

Longfellow’s poem of “Evangeline” is founded on this incident, and the above selection describes the scene where the male inhabitants of Grand-Pre’ are assembled in the church, and the order for their banishment is first made known to them.

LXXIII.  SONG OF THE SHIRT. (266)

Thomas Hood, 1798-1845, the son of a London bookseller, was born in that city.  He undertook, after leaving school, to learn the art of an engraver, but soon gave up the business, and turned his attention to literature.  His lighter pieces, exhibiting his skill as a wit and punster, soon became well known and popular.  In 1821 he became subeditor of the “London Magazine,” and formed the acquaintance of the literary men of the metropolis.  The last years of his life were clouded by poverty and ill health.  Some of his most humorous pieces were written on a sick bed.  Hood is best known as a joker—­a writer of “whims and oddities”—­but he was no mere joker.  Some of his pieces are filled with the tenderest pathos; and a gentle spirit, in love with justice and humanity, pervades even his lighter compositions.  His “Song of the Shirt” first appeared in the “London Punch.” ###

With fingers weary and worn,
  With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,
  Plying her needle and thread: 
Stitch! stitch! stitch! 
  In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
And still with a voice of dolorous pitch,
  She sang the “Song of the Shirt!”

  “Work! work! work! 
While the cock is crowing aloof! 
  And work! work! work! 
Till the stars shine through the roof! 
  It is oh to be a slave
Along with the barbarous Turk,
  Where woman has never a soul to save,
If this is Christian work!

  “Work! work! work! 
Till the brain begins to swim;
  Work! work! work! 
Till the eyes are heavy and dim! 
  Seam, and gusset, and band,
Band, and gusset, and seam,
  Till over the buttons I fall asleep,
And sew them on in a dream!