In the calm evenings cawed by clouds of rooks,
Acres of moss, and long black strips of firs,
And sweet cots dropt in green, where children played,
To us unheard; till, gradual, all was lost

In distance-haze to a blue rim of hills,

Upon whose heads came down the closing sky.

PICTURES.

THE lark is singing in the blinding sky,

Hedges are white with May. The bridegroom sea

Is toying with the shore, his wedded bride,
And, in the fulness of his marriage joy,

He decorates her tawny brow with shells,

Retires a space, to see how fair she looks,
Then, proud, runs up to kiss her. All is fair-
All glad, from grass to sun!

-One nymph slumbering lay,

A sweet dream 'neath her eyelids, her white limbs

Sinking full softly in the violets dim;

When timbrelled troops rushed past with branches green.

One in each fountain, riched with golden sands,

With her delicious face a moment seen,

And limbs faint gleaming through their watery veil,

Whose blood leapt madly when the trumpets brayed

To joyous battle 'mid a storm of steeds,

Won a rich kingdom on a battle-day;

But in the sunset he was ebbing fast,

Ringed by his weeping lords. His left hand held.
His white steed, to the belly splashed with blood,
That seemed to mourn him with his drooping head;
His right, his broken brand; and in his ear
His old victorious banners flap the winds.
He called his faithful herald to his side-
"Go! tell the dead I come!" With a proud smile,
The warrior with a stab let out his soul,

Which fled, and shrieked through all the other world, "Ye dead! my master comes!" And there was pause Till the great Shade should enter.

PHILIP JAMES BAILEY.

A SUMMER NIGHT.

THE last high upward slant of sun on the trees,
Like a dead soldier's sword upon his pall,
Seems to console earth for the glory gone.

Oh! I could weep to see the day die thus;
The death-bed of a day, how beautiful!
Linger, ye clouds, one moment longer there;

Fan it to slumber with your golden wings!
Like pious prayers, ye seem to soothe its end.
It will wake no more till the all-revealing day;
When, like a drop of water, greatened bright
Into a shadow, it shall show itself

With all its little tyrannous things and deeds,
Unhomed and clear. The day hath gone to God,-

Straight-like an infant's spirit, or a mocked

And mourning messenger of Grace to man.

Would it had taken me too on its wing!
My end is nigh. Would I might die outright,—
So o'er the sunset clouds of red mortality
The emerald hues of deathlessness diffuse
Their glory, heightening to the starry blue.
Of all embosoming eternity.

Who that hath lain lonely on a high hill,
In the imperious silence of full moon,

With nothing but the clear dark sky about him,
Like GOD'S HAND laid upon the head of earth,--
But hath expected that some natural spirit
Should start out of the universal air,
And, gathering his cloudy robe around him,
As one in act to teach mysterious things,
Explain that he must die?

SHERIDAN KNOWLES.

THE APPEAL AND THE REPROOF.

JULIA AND MASTER WALTER.

Walter. What! run the waves so high? Not ready yet!

Your lord will soon be here! The guests collect.

Julia. Show me some way to 'scape these nuptials! Do it! Some opening for avoidance or escape,—