She laid her aching head upon his breast,-- When from her lips came forth a cry,--a shriek, Like to a hare's when shot: and Miriam came, And bore her senseless from the room of death. 'Twas strange how quick the widow's glance had caught Each little circumstance of the chamber, And noted in her loving memory,-- How on the table lay his Bible--closed: No need had Enoch now of Holy Writ, No need of Gospel Message; for he stood In presence of his SAVIOUR, and his GOD. But had she open'd where the much-worn page Told of the frequent reading, she had seen The marks of blistering tears upon that text, "Whose shall she be in Heav'n? there they marry Not, nor give in marriage, but are angels." There was a fly upon the window pane Whose low monotonous hum she scarcely heard, And that unconscious; but in after years The buzzing of a summer fly recall'd, E'en in her happiest hours, _that_ day, That lonely visit to the bed of death; And cast a moment's shadow o'er her heart. More keenly she remarked the remnant store Of lulling anodynes: ah! bootless all To soothe the fever of his aching brain: The Wise Physician healed him with a touch, (E'en as we lay our hand on ringing glass To still the sound that careless fingers make), And sent a loving angel as his guide Through the dark valley to the realms of joy. There lay his watch, his big round silver watch, Whose constant tick had sadly echoed "Home" In all his wanderings; now its pulse was hushed: No need of Time for him: he had Eternity. * * * * * Then Philip left the village for awhile: And when once more the nutting-season came, And yellow "rust-spots" on the autumn leaves, He and his Annie were again at home! They'd learnt the lesson God had set them, "Wait:" And now the time of their reward was come: In _Faith's_ strong soil _Patience_ had taken root, And brought forth _Hope_ and _Joy_, as bloom and fruit. * * * * * ENOCH'S "HARD 'UN." PART I.