When to the Sessions of sweet, silent Thought

My Love is Strengthened

From "The Merchant of Venice "

SHELLEY, PERCY BYSSHE (1792-1822).
One Word is too often Profaned
Lines to an Indian Air

The Invitation

SIDNEY, Sir PHILIP (1554-1586)

A Ditty

SPECTATOR, LONDON.

Millais's "Huguenots".

SPENSER, EDMUND (1553-1599).

Sonnets:

More than most fair
The glorious Portrait
Mark when she smiles
Men call you fair
Epithalamion

SYLVESTER, JOSHUA (1563-1618)

Love's Omnipresence

TAYLOR, BAYARD (1825-1878).

Bedouin Love-Song

TENNYSON, ALFRED, b. 1810.

From "Idyls of the King"
A Voice by the Cedar Tree

Index of Authors.

TENNYSON, ALFRED (continued).

Ask me no more

In Love, if Love be Love
From "The Princess"

The Day-Dream, The Departure

Bugle Song

Move Eastward, happy Earth

From "The Miller's Daughter "

THACKERAY, WILLIAM MAKEPEACE (1811-1863).

At the Church Gate .

THOMSON, JAMES (1834-1882).

From "Sunday up the River"

Tender and True.

LOVE.

TRUE Love is but a humble, low-born thing,

And hath its food served up in earthen ware;

It is a thing to walk with, hand in hand,
Through the every-dayness of this work-day world,
Baring its tender feet to every roughness,
Yet letting not one heart-beat go astray
From Beauty's law of plainness and content;
A simple, fire-side thing, whose quiet smile
Can warm earth's poorest hovel to a home;
Which, when our autumn cometh, as it must,
And life in the chill wind shivers bare and leafless,
Shall still be blest with Indian-summer youth
In bleak November, and, with thankful heart,
Smile on its ample stores of garnered fruit,
As full of sunshine to our aged eyes

As when it nursed the blossoms of our spring.
Such is true Love, which steals into the heart
With feet as silent as the lightsome dawn

That kisses smooth the rough brows of the dark,

And hath its will through blissful gentleness,-
Not like a rocket, which, with savage glare,
Whirs suddenly up, then bursts, and leaves the night
Painfully quivering on the dazed eyes;

A Love that gives and takes, that seeth faults,
Not with flaw-seeking eyes like needle-points,
But, loving kindly, ever looks them down.

With the o'ercoming faith of meek forgiveness;
A Love that shall be new and fresh each hour
As is the golden mystery of sunset,

Or the sweet coming of the evening star,
Alike, and yet most unlike, every day,
And seeming ever best and fairest now.

James Russell Lowell.

LOVE ALTERS NOT.

LET me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove :-

O no! it is an ever-fixèd mark

That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.