A WOMAN'S LAST WORD

Meet, if thou require it,
Both demands,

Laying flesh and spirit
In thy hands.

That shall be to-morrow,
Not to-night;
I must bury sorrow
Out of sight:

-Must a little weep, Love,

(Foolish me!)

And so fall asleep, Love,

Loved by thee.

Song

ROBERT BROWNING.

COME, let us now resolve at last

To live and love in quiet;

We'll tie the knot so very fast

That time shall ne'er untie it.
The truest joys they never prove,
Who free from quarrels live ;
'Tis the most tender part of love
Each other to forgive.

When least I seemed concerned I took

No pleasure, nor had rest;

And when I feigned an angry look,

Alas! I loved you best.

Own but the same to me, you'll find

How blest will be our fate;

O to be happy, to be kind,

Sure never is too late.

JOHN SHEFFIELD.

HIMEROS

And they dreamed, that if Providence had so willed, their lives might have been filled with Love alone; something as bright, as radiant, as sublime, as the twinkling of the stars!

Love is too great a happiness

For wretched mortals to possess:
For, could it hold inviolate
Against those cruelties of fate,
Which all felicities below
By rigid laws are subject to,
It would become a bliss too high
For perishing mortality,

Translate to Earth the joys above,

For nothing goes to Heaven but Love.

Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night' CARE-CHARMER Sleep, son of the sable Night,

Brother to Death, in silent darkness born,
Relieve my languish and restore the light;
With dark forgetting of my care return.
And let the day be time enough to mourn
The shipwreck of my ill-adventured youth:
Let waking eyes suffice to wail their scorn,
Without the torment of the night's untruth.
Cease, dreams, the images of day-desires,

To model forth the passions of the morrow;
Never let rising sun approve you liars

To add more grief to aggravate my sorrow: Still let me sleep, embracing clouds in vain, And never wake to feel the day's disdain.

SLEE

SAMUEL DANIEL.

Sleep, Silence' child

LEEP, Silence' child, sweet father of soft rest,
Prince, whose approach peace to all mortals brings
Indifferent host to shepherds and to kings,
Sole comforter of minds with grief oppressed;
Lo, by thy charming rod all breathing things
Lie slumbering, with forgetfulness possessed,

And yet o'er me to spread thy drowsy wings
Thou sparest, alas! who cannot be thy guest.
Since I am thine, O come, but with that face
To inward light which thou art wont to show;
With feigned solace ease a true-felt woe;
Or if, deaf god, thou do deny that grace,

Come as thou wilt, and what thou wilt bequeath,
I long to kiss the image of my death.

WILLIAM DRummond.