WOMAN NOT she with traitorous kiss her Saviour stung, EATON STANNARD BARRETT. ANNABEL LEE It was many and many a year ago, That a maiden lived whom you may know And this maiden she lived with no other thought I was a child and she was a child, But we loved with a love that was more than love, With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven And this was the reason that long ago, A wind blew out of cloud-land, chilling So that her high-born kinsman came The angels, not so happy in heaven, Went envying her and me. Yes! that was the reason (as all men know) In this kingdom by the sea, That the wind came out of the cloud by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we, Of many far wiser than we; And neither the angels in heaven above, For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee, And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes And so, all the night-tide I lie down by the side In her tomb by the sounding sea. EDGAR ALLAN POE. OLD TIMES ""T WAS thirty years ago, and now We meet once more," I sighed and said, "To talk of Eton and old times; But every second word is 'Dead !'" We fill the glass, and watch the wine And once more, boys, we share the glow. "Do you remember Hawtrey's time? Well, springs must have their autumns too, And let it be your oldest wine. And gather closer to the fire, And let the gas flare overhead; Some day our children will meet thus, And they will praise or blame the Dead. ANONYMOUS. A WOMAN'S LOVE A SENTINEL angel, sitting high in glory, Heard this shrill wail ring out from purgatory : "Have mercy, mighty angel, hear my story! "I loved,― and blind with passionate love, I fell; "I do not rage against his high decree, "Great Spirit! Let me see my love again She curled his hair and kissed him. Woe is me!" She wept, "Now let my punishment begin! I have been fond and foolish. Let me in To expiate my sorrow and my sin." The angel answered, "Nay, sad soul, go higher! Was bitterer than a thousand years of fire." JOHN HAY. FISHING SONG Down in the wide gray river Over the wide gray river Floats the fisherman's song. The oar-stroke times the singing, Out of a deeper current, The song brings back to me Life that was spent and vanished, Love that had died of wrong, Hearts that are dead in living, Come back in the fisherman's song. I see the maples leafing, Just as they leafed before, With the rude strain swelling, sinking, Yet the soul hath life diviner : Its past returns no more, But in echoes, that answer the minor And the ways of God are darkness ; He breaks the heart of a woman ROSE TERRY COOKE. A LIFE ON THE OCEAN WAVE A LIFE on the ocean wave, A home on the rolling deep; On this dull, unchanging shore : Once more on the deck I stand We shoot through the sparkling foam, Like the ocean-bird, our home The land is no longer in view, The clouds have begun to frown; A home on the rolling sea ! A life on the ocean wave! EPES SARGENT. ALONE BY THE BAY He is gone, O my heart, he is gone ; And the white-winged yachts go by. And the waves run purple and green, The breath of the morning blows. I liked it better last night, When the dark shut down on the main, And the phantom fleet lay still, And I heard the waves complain. For the sadness that dwells in my heart, LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON. THE TEMPEST We were crowded in the cabin, 'T is a fearful thing in winter So we shuddered there in silence,— As thus we sat in darkness, Each one busy in his prayers, But his little daughter whispered, |