Part 56 (1/2)

Enjoy your morn of early Spring; Soon time maturer thoughts must bring; Those hours, like flowers that interclimb, Should not be withered ere their time.

Too soon you'll weep, as we do now, O'er faithless friend, or broken vow, And hopeless sorrows, which our pride In pleasure's whirl would vainly hide.

Laugh on! unconscious of thy doom, All innocence and opening bloom; Laugh on! while yet thine azure eye Mirrors the peace that reigns on high.

MRS. B. SOMERS.

THE PITY OF THE ANGELS.

_(”Un Ange vit un jour.”)_

[LA PITIe SUPREME VIII., 1881.]

When an angel of kindness Saw, doomed to the dark, Men framed in his likeness, He sought for a spark-- Stray gem of G.o.d's glory That s.h.i.+nes so serene-- And, falling like lark, To brighten our story, Pure Pity was seen.

THE SOWER.

Sitting in a porchway cool, Fades the ruddy sunlight fast, Twilight hastens on to rule-- Working hours are wellnigh past

Shadows shoot across the lands; But one sower lingers still, Old, in rags, he patient stands,-- Looking on, I feel a thrill.

Black and high his silhouette Dominates the furrows deep!

Now to sow the task is set, Soon shall come a time to reap.

Marches he along the plain, To and fro, and scatters wide From his hands the precious grain; Moody, I, to see him stride.

Darkness deepens. Gone the light.

Now his gestures to mine eyes Are august; and strange--his height Seems to touch the starry skies.

TORU DUTT.

OH, WHY NOT BE HAPPY?[1]

_(”A quoi bon entendre les oiseaux?”)_

[RUY BLAS, Act II.]

Oh, why not be happy this bright summer day, 'Mid perfume of roses and newly-mown hay?

Great Nature is smiling--the birds in the air Sing love-lays together, and all is most fair.