Fairy spirits of the breeze—
Frailer nothing is than these.
Fancies born we know not where—
In the heart or in the air;
Wandering echoes blown unsought
From far crystal peaks of thought;
Shadows, fading at the dawn,
Ghosts of feeling dead...

National Anthem
By H. W. L——, of Cambridge
BACK in the years when Phlagstaff, the Dane, was monarch
  Over the sea-ribbed land of the fleet-footed Norsemen,
Once there went forth young Ursa to gaze at the heavens,—
  Ursa, the noblest of all Vikings and...

If I might see another Spring

   I'd not plant summer flowers and wait:

I'd have my crocuses at once,

My leafless pink mezereons,

   My chill-veined snowdrops, choicer yet

   My white or azure violet,

Leaf...

Poet:

If all the year was summer time,

And all the aim of life

Was just to lilt on like a rhyme,

Then I would be your wife.


If all the days were August days,

And crowned with golden weather,

How happy then...

Poet:

I plucked pink blossoms from mine apple-tree

   And wore them all that evening in my hair:

Then in due season when I went to see

      I found no apples there.


With dangling basket all along the grass

   As I...

Poet:

They drift down the hall together;

       He smiles in her lifted eyes;

Like waves of that mighty river,

       The strains of the "Danube" rise.


They float on its rhythmic measure

       Like leaves on a summer...

Poet:

Come, cuddle your head on my shoulder, dear,

Your head like the golden-rod,

And we will go sailing away from here

To the beautiful Land of Nod.

Away from life's hurry and flurry and worry,

Away from earth's shadows...

Poet:

I have no wit, no words, no tears;

   My heart within me like a stone

Is numbed too much for hopes or fears;

   Look right, look left, I dwell alone;

I lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief

   No everlasting hills I...

Poet:

My heart is like a singing bird

   Whose nest is in a watered shoot;

My heart is like an apple-tree

   Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit;

My heart is like a rainbow shell

   That paddles in a halcyon sea;...

Poet:

MORAL.


So, oft in theologic wars
The disputants, I ween, ...

Poet: