English

The eye of the demon on Albion was turned;
And, viewing the happy, with envy he burned;
He snarled at the churches, the almshouse he cursed,
Till hate of their virtue his silence had burst:
"Why waves yonder harvest? why glitters yon tower?
"My hate they despise, and they scoff at my power.
"Then lend me assistance, ye elements dire,
"Attend at my call, air, earth, water, and fire.'
He spoke; and, lo! pregnant with flame and with pest,
The scorch of the blast his rough mandate confessed,
The flame of the typhus, the stifling damp,

Eye-flattering fortune, look thou never so fair,
Or never so pleasantly begin to smile
As though thou wouldst my ruin all repair;
During my life thou shalt me not beguile.
Trust shall I God, to enter in a while
His haven of heaven, sure and uniform;
Ever after thy calm, look I for a storm.

Exquisite stillness! What serenities
Of earth and air! How bright atop the wall
The stone-crop's fire, and beyond the precipice
How huge, how hushed, the primrose evenfall!
How softly, too, the white crane voyages
Yon honeyed height of warmth and silence, whence
He can look down on islet, lake and shore
And voiceless woods and pathless promontories,
Or, further gazing, view the magnificence
Of cloudlike mountains and of mountainous cloud
Or ghostly wrack below the horizon rim
Not even his eye has vantage to explore.

I sit on the lonely headland,
Where the sea-gulls come and go:
The sky is gray above me,
And the sea is gray below.

There is no fisherman's pinnace
Homeward or outward bound;
I see no living creature
In the world's deserted round.

I pine for something human,
Man, woman, young or old,—
Something to meet and welcome,
Something to clasp and hold.

I have a mouth for kisses,
But there's no one to give or take,
I have a heart in my bosom
Beating for nobody's sake.

The dusky sky fades into blue
And blue waters bind us
The stars are glimmering faint and few,
The night is left behind us!
Turn not where sinks the sullen dark
Before the signs of warning,
But crowd the canvas on our bark
And sail to meet the morning.
Rejoice! rejoice! the hues that fill
The orient, flush and lighten
And over the blue Ionian hill
The Dawn begins to brighten!

We leave the Night, that weighed so long
Upon the soul's endeavor,
For Morning, on these hills of Song,

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.

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

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:

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;