In skyey garments, silky thin, The glad retainers floated in,-- A thousand forms, and yet no din: And from the visage of the Lord, Like splendor from the Orient poured, A smile illumined all the board. Far flew the music's circling sound, Then floated back with soft rebound, To join, not mar, the converse round,-- Sweet notes that melting still increased, Such as ne'er cheered the bridal feast Of king in the enchanted East. Did any great door ope or close, It seemed the birth-time of repose,-- The faint sound died where it arose; And they who passed from door to door, Their soft feet on the polished floor Met their soft shadows,--nothing more. Then once again the groups were drawn Through corridors, or down the lawn, Which bloomed in beauty like a dawn: Where countless fountains leap alway, Veiling their silver heights in spray, The choral people held their way. There, 'mid the brightest, brightly shone Dear forms he loved in years agone,-- The earliest loved,--the earliest flown: He heard a mother's sainted tongue, A sister's voice who vanished young, While one still dearer sweetly sung! No further might the scene unfold, The gazer's voice could not withhold, The very rapture made him bold: He cried aloud, with clasped hands, "O happy fields! O happy bands, Who reap the never-failing lands! "O master of these broad estates, Behold, before your very gates A worn and wanting laborer waits! Let me but toil amid your grain, Or be a gleaner on the plain, So I may leave these fields of pain! "A gleaner, I will follow far, With never look or word to mar, Behind the Harvest's yellow car: All day my hand shall constant be, And every happy eve shall see The precious burden borne to Thee!" At morn some reapers neared the place, Strong men, whose feet recoiled apace,-- Then gathering round the upturned face, They saw the lines of pain and care, Yet read in the expression there The look as of an answered prayer. * * * * * THE NEW-ENGLAND REVOLUTION OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. In the first week of March, 1689, Sir Edmund Andros returned to Boston from an expedition against the Indians of Maine. He had now governed New England more than two years for King James II., imitating, in his narrow sphere, the insolent despotism of his master.