English

“D AUGHTER , thou art come to die:”
—Sound be thy sleeping, lass.”
“Well: without lament or cry,
—Mother, let me pass.”

“What things on mould were best of all?
—(Soft be thy sleeping, lass.)”
“The apples reddening till they fall
In the sun beside the convent wall.
—Let me pass.”

“Whom on earth hast thou loved best?
—(Sound be thy sleeping, lass.)”
“Him that shared with me thy breast;
Thee and a knight last year our guest.
He hath an heron to his crest.
—Let me pass.”

" Daughter, how the door is creaking,
In the dead of night it shakes! " —
Mother o' mine, the wind is shrieking,
Never mind the noise it makes.
On the window beats the rain.
Lie you still,
And I will
Read the evening prayers again.

Ye daughters of Jerusalem, give heed!
Hark to my friend's feet coming o'er the mead.
I hear his feet o'er the dark meadow tripping,
With nightly dew his locks are dripping.

" Daughter, some one's in the house!
To the stairs I hear him creeping. " —

1

Dat Sunshine Special comin' around de bend,
It blowed jus' like it nevah blowed befoh,
It blowed jus' like it nevah blowed befoh,
It blowed jus' like it nevah blowed befoh.

2

If I had a head-light like on a passenger train,
I'd shine my light on cool Colorado Springs,
I'd shine my light on cool Colorado Springs,
I'd shine my light on cool Colorado Springs.

3

Oh C. C. Rider, now see what you done, done,
You made me love you, now your sweetheart's come,

Dasius, chucker-out
at the Turkish Baths,
is a shrewd assessor;
when he saw big-titted
Spatale coming, he decided
to charge her entry for three
persons. What did she do?
Paid with pride of course.

[President of West Virginia Colored Institute.]

Dar's a skool in West Virginny,
Dat I hears dem call de Farm,
Whar dey raises ebery t'ing to eat,
En has de bigges' barns, —
Whar de ho'ses en de cows,
In restin' spend de night,
And w'ar away de hours,
To dey own heart's delight.

Darkling I steal, and with hushed footsteps slow
Thread the dim palace, between painted walls
And pillared aisles and perfumed plants a row.
Whither? O, where? Keen as a sword edge falls
Light from yon slender portal. Onward still
I am lured spell-bound through the noiseless halls.
Still onward. Sense and thought and shrinking will,
Compelled by unresistible control,
Grope toward yon shining slit that sharp and chill
Gleams like the lode-star of my shuddering soul.
Yet would I fain draw back: all is so dark,

Darling, how long before this breath will cease?
How long before my soul shall have sweet peace?
I am so weary, that I fain would rest,
Would rest forever on my Saviour's breast.

Ah! let me gaze once more upon the earth,
So gay, so bright, so full of joy and mirth.
The song-birds sing, and bright flowers bloom for me,
And night's pure stars shine on me lovingly:

Earth is all brightness, still I fain would go
Where all is real, where joy ne'er turns to woe,
Where this frail body will be free from pain,

I

The darkness rolls upward.
The thick darkness carries with it
Rain and a ravel of cloud.
The sun comes forth upon earth.

Palely the dawn
Leaves me facing timidly
Old gardens sunken:
And in the gardens is water.

Sombre wreck — autumnal leaves;
Shadowy roofs
In the blue mist,
And a willow-branch that is broken.

Oh, old pagodas of my soul, how you glittered across green trees!

Blue and cool:
Blue, tremulously,
Blow faint puffs of smoke
Across sombre pools.

Darkness comes out of the earth
And swallows dip into the pallor of the west;
From the hay comes the clamour of children's mirth;
Wanes the old palimpsest.

The night-stock oozes scent,
And a moon-blue moth goes flittering by:
All that the worldly day has meant
Wastes like a lie.

The children have forsaken their play;
A single star in a veil of light
Glimmers: litter of day
Is gone from sight.

Dark is the stair, and humid the old walls
Wherein it winds, on worn stones, up the tower.
Only by loophole chinks at intervals
Pierces the late glow of this August hour.

Two truant children climb the stairway dark,
With joined hands, half in glee and half in fear,
The boy mounts brisk, the girl hangs back to hark
If the gruff sexton their light footstep hear.

Dazzled at last they gain the belfry-room.
Barred rays through shutters hover across the floor
Dancing in dust; so fresh they come from gloom