I wish you were here! Were I duller
Than dull, you'd be dearer than dear;
I am drest in your favourite colour —
Dear Fred, how I wish you were here!
I am wearing my lazuli necklace,

The necklace you fastened askew! Was there ever so rude and so reckless A darling as you?

I want you to come and pass sentence
On two or three books with a plot;
Of course you know "Janet's Repentance"?
I'm reading Sir Waverly Scott,
That story of Edgar and Lucy,

How thrilling, romantic, and true!

The Master (his bride was a goosey!)
Reminds me of you.

They tell me Cockaigne has been crowning A Poet whose garland endures;

It was you who first spouted me Browning, — That stupid old Browning of yours!

His

vogue and his verve are alarming,
I'm anxious to give him his due,
But, Fred, he's not nearly so charming
A poet as you.

I heard how you shot at the Beeches,
I saw how you rode Chanticleer,
I have read the report of your speeches,
And echo'd the echoing cheer:

THE PROTEST.

There's a whisper of hearts you are breaking,

Dear Fred, I believe it, I do!

Small marvel that Fashion is making
Her idol of you!

Alas for the world, and its dearly
Bought triumph, its fugitive bliss;
Sometimes I half wish I were merely
A plain or a penniless miss;

But perhaps one is best with "

a measure

Of pelf," and I'm not sorry, too,
That I'm pretty, because it's a pleasure,
My darling, to you!

Your whim is for frolic and fashion,

Your taste is for letters and art; -
This rhyme is the common-place passion
That glows in a fond woman's heart:
Lay it by in some sacred deposit

Love, some day they'll print it, because it

Was written to you.

FREDERICK LOCKER.

THE PROTEST.

I

COULD not bear to see those eyes

On all with wasteful largesse shine,

And that delight of welcome rise

Like sunshine strained through amber wine,

13

But that a glow from deeper skies,

From conscious fountains more divine,
Is (is it?) mine.

Be beautiful to all mankind,

As nature fashioned thee to be;

'T would anger me did all not find
The sweet perfection that's in thee:
Yet keep one charm of charms behind, -
Nay, thou 'rt so rich, keep two or three
For (is it?) me!

JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.

Q

FROM "MAUD."

UEEN rose of the rosebud garden of girls,
Come hither, the dances are done,

In gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls,

Queen lily and rose in one;

Shine out, little head, sunning over with curls, To the flowers, and be their sun.

There has fallen a splendid tear

From the passion-flower at the gate.

She is coming, my dove, my dear;

She is coming, my life, my

fate;

The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near;
And the white rose weeps, "She is late;"

The larkspur listens, “I hear, I hear;"
And the lily whispers, “I wait."

LOVE'S MEANING.

She is coming, my own, my sweet;
Were it ever so airy a tread,
My heart would hear her and beat,
Were it earth in an earthy bed;
My dust would hear her and beat,
Had I lain for a century dead;

Would start and tremble under her feet,
And blossom in purple and red.

ALFRED TENNYSON.

15

LOVE'S MEANING.

THOUGHT it meant all glad ecstatic things,
Fond glance and touch and speech, quick blood
and brain,

And strong desire, and keen, delicious pain,
And beauty's thrall, and strange bewilderings
Twixt hope and fear, like to the little stings
The rose-thorn gives, and then the utter gain—
Worth all my sorest strivings to attain
Of the dear bliss long-sought possession gives.

Now with a sad, clear sight that reassures
My often sinking soul, with longing eyes
Averted from the path that still allures,

Lest, seeing that for which my sore heart sighs,

I seek my own good at the cost of yours,
I know at last that love means sacrifice.

CARLOTTA PERRY.

N°

SONG.

OT from the whole wide world I chose thee
Sweetheart, light of the land and the sea!
The wide, wide world could not inclose thee,
For thou art the whole wide world to me.

RICHARD WATSON GILDER.

THE

THE WOMAN'S CAUSE.

HE woman's cause is man's: they rise or sink
Together, dwarfed or godlike, bond or free:
For she that out of Lethe scales with man
The shining steps of Nature, shares with man
His nights, his days, moves with him to one goal,
Stays all the fair young planet in her hands
If she be small, slight-natured, miserable,
How shall men grow? But work no more alone!
Our place is much; as far as in us lies

We two will serve them both in aiding her,-
Will clear away the parasitic forms

That seem to keep her up, but drag her down;
Will leave her space to burgeon out of all

Within her, let her make herself her own

To give or keep, to live and learn and be
All that not harms distinctive womanhood.
For woman is not undeveloped man,

But diverse could we make her as the man,
Sweet love were slain; his dearest bond is this,