When Lisa sings! unto my ravished ear

Each luscious note unfolds love's golden tale; With thrilling pulse, made bold with mine own fear, I breathe the love no longer I can veil ;

And melody unpent, of sweetest heart-joy horn,

Swells in each throbbing breast as dreamland way we sail. -S. J. Adair Fitz Gerald.

THE GUEST.

HE came unbid; I know not whence,
This wondrous guest, unknown before;
All silent and unseen he came

Within my door.

He gently heals my lifelong pain,
He charms the frequent tears away,
And all my grief from me beguiles,
And still will stay.

Sweet thoughts arise and eager climb,
Like birds that sing in upper air,
The song that close to heaven's high gates
Becomes a prayer.

Yet half I fear his tender wiles;
Oh, tardy Love, too late delayed!
My coward heart shrinks back in derbt,
And hides, afraid.

And fain would trust, but questions still;
Too late delayed! too long forlorn!
Can night so darksome break so soon
To such fair morn?

Not for pale brows and faded hair,
Oh, Love, do thy red roses blow;
Take back thy crown, I weeping cry :-
He doth not go,

But lingers still and lingers yet,

And bears him in such winning wise,

Such holy benedictions shine

In his dear eyes.

I can but trust, I can but list

The winged hopes that softly sing:
Cancelled at last mine ancient wrong,
And Love is King.

TOGETHER.

-Unidentified.

WE two in the fever and fervour and glow
Of life's high tide have rejoiced together;
We have looked out over the glittering snow,
And knew we were dwelling in Summer weather.
For the seasons are made by the heart, I hold,
And not by outdoor heat or cold.

We two in the shadows of pain and woe,

Have journeyed together in dim, dark places,
Where black robed Sorrow walked to and fro,
And Fear and Trouble with phantom faces
Pered out upon us and froze our blood,
Though June's fair roses were all in bud.

We two have measured all depths, all heights,

We have bathed in tears, we have sunned in laughter, We have known all sorrows and all delights

They never could keep us apart hereafter. Wherever your spirit was sent I know

I would defy earth-or heaven-to go.

If they took my soul into Paradise,

And told me I must be content without you, I would weary them so with my lonesome cries, And the ceaseless questions I asked about youThey would open the gates and set me free, Or else they would find you and bring you to me. -Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

WERE you there when the columns swirled about?
Did you hear the cannon's rattle?

Did you hear the regiment's lusty shout,
And the hum of the bees of battle?

IT

The bees that hummed in the air were of lead;
How they sang through the leafy bowers!

And the juice of the flowers which they drank was red :
How the battle bees fed on flowers!

The flowers of homes in the sunny South,

Of homes in the North deserted;

How they bowed their heads in the fiery drouth,
How the bees among them flirted;

How they swarmed in the '60's summer tide,
How they flew through the forest singing,

How they stung as they sang and the flowers died,
Died suddenly from the stinging!

Were you there when the bees came humming through!
Were you there when they so beset us?

When the honey they made with so much ado
Was sweeter than that of Hymettus?

Was it sweet? Ah, it was! So I say again!
Its sweetness was told in story;

It was deadly sweet to the armies twain,
But the honey was only glory.

-Stanley Waterloo.

THE OBSTACLE ALWAYS AHEAD.

THERE's always a river to cross,
Always an effort to make,
If there's anything good to win,
Any rich prize to take.
Yonder's the fruit we crave;

Yonder the charming scene;

But deep and wide, with a troubled tide,
Is the river that lies between,

For, rougher the way that we take,

The stouter the heart and the nerve;

The stones in our path we break,

Nor e'er from our impulse swerve:

For the glory we hope to win
Our labours we count no loss;

"Tis folly to pause and murmur because
Of the river we have to cross.

-Unidentified.

SOWER AND SEED.

A KINDLY word and a kindly deed,
A helpful hand in time of need,
With a strong true heart

To do his part,—

Thus went the sower out with his seed,
Nor stayed in his toil to name his creed.

No coat-of-arms, no silken crest,
No purple or linen about his breast,
But royally true

To the purpose in view,

Was his ceaseless search, and his constant quest,
For suffering souls in need of rest.

Feeling for others, bearing their pain,

Freeing the fetters, undoing the chain,
From sorrow and tears,

He wrought the bright years,—

Still unknown to rank, and unknown to fame,
In letters of light God writeth his name.

HAD I A THOUSAND SOULS.

-Ella Dare.

HAD I a thousand souls with which to love thee,
I'd throw them all, delighted, at thy feet;
Had I uncounted gold wherewith to move thee,
"Twould seem unworthy all, and incomplete:
I fain would be an Argus but to view thee,
And a Briareus round thy charms to cling;
Another Orpheus to play music to thee,
A Homer thy perfections all to sing.

I would be May to clothe thee with its splendour,
And Love itself adoring to caress thee;

15

I'd call on fame, to speak my passion tender,

I'd fain be the world's king, to serve and bless thee, A sun to be thy light and thy defender,

And heaven itself for ever to possess thee.

-John Bowring, from the Spanish

HOPE'S SONG.

"AND will it be," said Hope to me,

"That over the snow he'll come,

And the beckoning light of your window bright
Will guide him, weary, home?"

"Or will it be," said Hope to me,

"On a summer's eventide,

When the tender glow of the sunset's low,

You shall walk home side by side?"

"Or will it be," said Hope to me,
"When the sky is dull and gray,

And thou downcast, he will come at last
And brighten all the day?"

"Or will it be," said Hope to me,
"You may put my pictures by,

Save one the best and the faithfullest,
To look at when you die?"

"Or a gleaming sea," said Hope to me,
"And a fair shore calm and sweet,
Where hearts I wis like thine and his
Have never failed to meet."

-Elsie Kendall.

THE BROKEN HARP.

Ir this now silent harp could wake,
How pure, how strong, how true
The tender strain its chords would make,
Of love and grief for you!

But like my heart, though faithful long,
By you cast forth to pain,