If I'd a sack of florins, and all new,
(Packed tight together, freshly coined and fine,)
And Arcidosso and Montegiovi mine,
And quite a glut of eagle-pieces too, —
It were but as three farthings to my view
Without Becchina. Why then all these plots
To whip me, daddy? Nay, but tell me — what's
My sin, or all the sins of Turks, to you?
For I protest (or may I be struck dead!)
My love's so firmly planted in its place,
Whipping nor hanging now could change the grain.
And if you want my reason on this head,

Expansive puppets percolate self-unction
Beneath a portrait of the Prince of Wales.
Miss Crotchet's muse has somehow failed to function,
Yet she's a poetess. Beaming, she sails

From group to chattering group, with such a dear
Victorian saintliness, as is her fashion,
Greeting the other unknowns with a cheer —
Virgins of sixty who still write of passion.

The air is heavy with " Canadian" topics.
And Carman, Lampman, Roberts, Campbell, Scott
Are measured for their faith and philanthropics,

Exit the ribald clown
Enter like bubbling wine,
Lighter than thistledown,
Sweet little Colombine.

Whisht! and behold the game,
Long eyes and pointed chin
Paler than candleflame,
At her feet Harlequin.

Look how their shadows run,
Swift as she flies from him! —
Moths in the morning sun,
Out of a garden dim.

Faint through the fluttering

Wonderful countenance and royal neck,
I have not found your beauty's parallel!
Nor at her birth might any yet prevail
The likeness of these features to partake.
Wisdom is theirs, and mildness: for whose sake
All grace seems stol'n, such perfect grace to swell;
Fashioned of God beyond delight to dwell
Exalted. And herein my pride I take
Who of this garden have possession,
So that all worth subsists for my behoof
And bears itself according to my will.
Lady, in thee such pleasaunce hath its fill
That whoso is content to rest thereon

A MONG the faults we in that book descry
Which has crowned Dante lord of rhyme and thought,
Are two so grave that some attaint is brought
Unto the greatness of his soul thereby.
One is, that holding with Sordello high
Discourse, and with the rest who sang and taught,
He of Onesto di Boncima nought
Has said, who was to Arnauld Daniel nigh.
The other is, that when he says he came
To see, at summit of the sacred stair,
His Beatrice among the heavenly signs, —
He, looking in the bosom of Abraham,
Saw not that highest of all women there

that he for us had been,
1. Except the Lord, that he for us had been, They had us
that he for us had been,
When kindled was their
swallowed up alive even then When kindled was
swallowed up When kindled was
Then had the waters
anger against us. Then had the waters
their anger against us. Then had the waters
their anger against us. Then had the waters
then passed had the stream.
over us flowed; Over our soul then passed had the stream.

2. Our soul is as a bird escaped free
From out of the entangling fowler's snare.

EXCEEDING sorrow
Consumeth my sad heart!
Because to-morrow
We must depart,
Now is exceeding sorrow
All my part!

Give over playing,
Cast thy viol away:
Merely laying
Thine head my way:
Prithee, give over playing,
Grave or gay.

Be no word spoken;
Weep nothing: let a pale
Silence, unbroken
Silence prevail!
Prithee, be no word spoken,
Lest I fail!

Forget to-morrow!
Weep nothing: only lay
In silent sorrow
Thine head my way:
Let us forget to-morrow,
This one day!

Ev'rything is over and I'm feeling bad,
I lost the best pal that I ever had; 'Tis but a fort-night,
since she was here, Seems like she's gone though for twenty year
Oh, how I miss her my old pal, Oh how I'd kiss her
my gal Sal; Face not so handsome, but
eyes don't you know That shone just as bright, as they did years ago.
Brought her little dain ties just afore she died,
Promised she would meet me, on the other side; Told her how I loved her,
she said: " I know Jim, " Just do your best, leave the rest to Him;

1. Ev'ry Saturday, Willie got his pay, Then he'd call for
Nell, Trousers neatly pressed and nice white vest,
Buttenhole bouquet as well; On Nellie's little hat There
was a little bird, That little bird knew lots of things, It did, upon my word; And
in it's quiet way, It had a lot to say, As the lovers strolled along:
2. In a shady nook, By, the quiet brook, Nell and Willie
fish, Lips together meet in kisses sweet,
Love is such a dainty dish; Then Nellie said to Will Such
pretty things galore, But ev'rything that Nellie said the bird had heard before; And

O POVERTY , by thee the soul is wrapp'd
With hate, with envy, dolefulness, and doubt.
Even so be thou cast out,
And even so he that speaks thee otherwise.
I name thee now, because my mood is apt
To curse thee, bride of every lost estate,
Through whom are desolate
On earth all honourable things and wise.
Within thy power each blest condition dies:
By thee, men's minds with sore mistrust are made
Fantastic and afraid: —
Thou, hated worse than Death, by just accord,
And with the loathing of all hearts abhorr'd.