And you speak and bring with you
Leaf and sun-ray, bud and blue,
And the wind-breath and the dew,
At a word.

When you called to me my name,
Then again

When I heard your single cry
In the lane,

All the sound was as the "sweet"
Which the birds to birds repeat
In their thank-song to the heat
After rain.

When you sang the Schwalbenlied,

'Twas absurd,-

But it seemed no human note

That I heard ;

For your strain had all the trills,

All the little shakes and stills,

Of the over-song that rills

From a bird.

You have just their eager, quick

"Airs de tête,"

All their flush and fever-heat

When elate;

Every bird-like nod and beck,

And a bird's own curve of neck

When she gives a little peck

To her mate.

When you left me, only now,

In that furred,

Puffed, and feathered Polish dress,

I was spurred

Just to catch you, O my Sweet,
By the bodice trim and neat,—
Just to feel your heart a-beat,

Like a bird.

Yet, alas! Love's light you deign
But to wear

As the dew upon your plumes,

And you care

Not a whit for rest or hush;

But the leaves, the lyric gush,

And the wing-power, and the rush
Of the air.

So I dare not woo you, Sweet,

For a day,

Lest I lose you in a flash,

As I may;

Did I tell you tender things,

You would shake your sudden wings;

You would start from him who sings,

And away.

THE LOVE-LETTER

"J'ai vu les mœurs de mon tems, et j'ai publié cette lettre." -LA NOUVELLE HELOISE,

IF this should fail, why then I scarcely know What could succeed. Here's brilliancy (and banter),

Byron ad lib., a chapter of Rousseau ;—

If this should fail, then tempora mutantur; Style's out of date, and love, as a profession, Acquires no aid from beauty of expression.

"The men who think as I, I fear, are few,"

(Cynics would say twere well if they were fewer); "I am not what I seem,"-(indeed, 'tis true; Though, as a sentiment, it might be newer); "Mine is a soul whose deeper feelings lie More deep than words "-(as these exemplify).

"I will not say when first your beauty's sun

Illumed my life,”—(it needs imagination); "For me to see you and to love were one,”.

(This will account for some precipitation); "Let it suffice that worship more devoted Ne'er throbbed," et cætera. The rest is quoted.

"If Love can look with all-prophetic eye," (Ah, if he could, how many would be single!) "If truly spirit unto spirit cry,❞—

(The ears of some most terribly must tingle!) "Then I have dreamed you will not turn your face."

This next, I think, is more than commonplace.

"Why should we speak, if Love, interpreting, Forestall the speech with favour found before? Why should we plead ?—it were an idle thing, If Love himself be Love's ambassador ! Blot, as I live! Shall we erase it? No ;"Twill show we write currente calamo.

"My fate, my fortune, I commit to you,❞— (In point of fact, the latter's not extensive); "Without you I am poor indeed,"-(strike through, 'Tis true but crude-'twould make her appre

hensive);

"My life is yours-I lay it at your feet,"
(Having no choice but Hymen or the Fleet).

'Give me the right to stand within the shrine, Where never yet my faltering feet intruded; Give me the right to call you wholly mine,"(That is, Consols and Three-per-Cents included);

"To guard your rest from every care that cankers,―

To keep your life, (and balance at your

banker's).

'Compel me not to long for your reply;

Suspense makes havoc with the mind-(and muscles);

"Winged Hope takes flight,"-(which means that I must fly,

Default of funds, to Paris or to Brussels); "I cannot wait! My own, my queen-PRISCILLA! Write by return." And now for a Manilla!

"Miss Blank," at "Blank." Jemima, let it go; And I, meanwhile, will idle with "Sir Walter "; Stay, let me keep the first rough copy, though— 'Twill serve again. There's but the name to alter;

And Love, that starves, must knock at every portal,

In forma pauperis. We are but mortal!