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A BALLADE OF MIDSUMMER.

The heat wave sweeps along the street,
And torrid ripples mark its flow;
Successive billows follow fleet,

And blister all things with their glow.
No puff of air swings to and fro;
No gentle zephyr stirs the trees.

O for the winds that o'er ocean blow!
O for a breath of the salt sea-breeze!

Along the shadeless ways you greet

No damsel fair, no buckramed beau-
The solitude is ruled by heat-

A sultry, sullen, scorching woe.
The blazing sun rides high and slow,
As if with laziness to tease

The melting, sweltering world belowO for a breath of the salt sea breeze!

The laggard steed with aching feet
Must stagger on; for h m is no
Surcease of labour, no retreat

And so

Before his stint is done.
Must man still labour on, although
He hopeless longs to take his ease,

Or to the ocean fain would go—
O for a breath of the salt sea-breeze!

Envoi.

Princes or peasants, friend and fce,

No man may have all that he please ; Midsummer heat shall lay him low

O for a breath of the salt sea breeze!

BRANDER MATTHEWS

RAIN AND SHINE.

(Ballade à double refrain.)

The clouds are thick and darkly lower;
The sullen sodden sky would fain
Pour down a never-ending shower:
I hear the pattering of the rain,
I hear it rattle on the pane.-
And then I see the mist entwining,
Nor one position long retain.
Behold! the gentle sun is shining!

As though exulting in its power,

The storm beats down with steady strain; Upon the ivy of the tower

I hear the pattering of the rain ;
It swiftly sweeps across the plain.—
And then I see the sky refining,

And molten with a golden stain.
Behold! the gentle sun is shining!
Beneath the storm the cattle cower;
It beats upon the growing grain,
And as it breaks both bud and flower,
I hear the pattering of the rain,-
From where the clouds too long have lain
They turn, and show a silver lining,
A splendid glory comes again.
Behold the gentle sun is shining!

Envoy.

Although like some far, faint refrain,
I hear the pattering of the rain,

The storm is past. No more repining-
Behold! the gentle sun is shining!

BRANDER MATTHEWS.

AN AMERICAN GIRL.

She's had a Vassar education,

And points with pride to her degrees;
She's studied household decoration;
She knows a dado from a frieze,
And tells Corots from Boldonis ;
A Jacquemart etching, or a Haden,

A Whistler, too, perchance might please A free and frank young Yankee maiden.

She does not care for meditation;

Within her bonnet are no bees; She has a gentle animation,

She joins in singing simple glees. She tries no trills, no rivalries With Lucca (now Baronin Räden),

With Nilsson or with Gerster; she's A frank and free young Yankee maiden.

I'm blessed above the whole creation,
Far, far, above all other he's ;

I ask you for congratulation

On this the best of jubilees:

I go with her across the seas

Unto what Poe would call an Aiden, -
I hope no serpent's there to tease
A frank and free young Yankee maiden.

Envoy.

Princes, to you the western breeze

Bears many a ship and heavy laden,
What is the best we send in these?

A free and frank young Yankee maiden.
BRANDER MATTHEWS.

"FROM BATTLE, MURDER AND SUDDEN DEATH, GOOD LORD, DELIVER US.

What of this prayer which myriad skies

Hear from the shrines where tired men kneel, Godward upturning anguished eyes,

Clasping gaunt hands in strong appeal? What of this fear that worn lives feel? Why should some strain their labouring breath, Since they must gain not woe but weal, From battle, murder and sudden death!

Is it not well with him who dies

Flushed amid smoke and flash of steel;
Stabbed by some traitor's swift surprise;
Stricken by doom no signs reveal?
Ruin and wrong can no more deal
Blows beneath which (man's record saith)

Men ask deliverance, while they reel,
From battle, murder and sudden death!

Can one so dead be harmed by lies,

Tortured by wounds smiles ill conceal?
Can love bring loss, or desire devise

Vain visions, or grim fate's iron heel
Brand both on brow and soul its seal,

Till, wretched as He of Nazareth,

Man loathes the life he yet prays to steal
From battle, murder and sudden death?

Envoi.

Waifs that on life's tide sink and rise,

Chaff that each chance wind winnoweth,
Why dread God's rest that comes, a prize
From battle, murder and sudden death?
JOHN MORAN.

IN WINTER.

Oh, to go back to the days of June,
Just to be young and alive again,
Hearken again to the mad, sweet tune

Birds were singing with might and main: South they flew at the summer's wane,

Leaving their nests for storms to harry, Since time was coming for wind and rain Under the wintry skies to marry.

Wearily wander by dale and dune

Footsteps fettered with clanking chain-
Free they were in the days of June,
Free they never can be again :
Fetters of age, and fetters of pain,

Joys that fly, and sorrows that tarry—
Youth is over, and hopes were vain
Under the wintry skies to marry.

Now we chant but a desolate rune-
Oh to be young and alive again!
But never December turns to June,

And length of living is length of pain :
Winds in the nestless trees complain,
Snows of winter about us tarry,
And never the birds come back again
Under the wintry skies to marry.

Envoi.

Youths and maidens, blithesome and vain,
Time makes thrusts that you cannot parry;

Mate in season, for who is fain

Under the wintry skies to marry?

LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON.

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