Thou and I on Southern seas,
Two hundred years ago,
Felt the perfumed even-breeze,
Spoke in Spanish by the trees.
Had no care or woe:
Life went dreamily in song
Two hundred years ago.

Thou and I 'mid Northern snows,

One hundred years ago,

Led an iron, silent life,

And were glad to flow
Onwards into changing death
One hundred years ago.

Thou and I but yesterday

Met in Fashion's show,

Love, did you remember me,

Love of long ago?

Yes; we keep the fond oath sworn

A thousand years ago!

BUZZ!

46 My name," quoth the man, "is Fine Ear; I can hear all the noises in the world, and all that is spoken therein."-Grimm's Fairy Tales.

I heard the steeples pouring forth
Their storm-bells' roaring din,
And the songs of merry companies

As they sat so snug within;

The measured tread of armies proud,

The dash of the restless sea,

"And it's buzz!" quoth the world, as on she whirled;

And away with the world went we.

I heard a martyr at the stake

Groan out, "In Domino!"

I heard five infants squall at night,
While cats yelled out below;

I heard a preacher pounding texts

To a godly companie,

"And it's buzz!" quoth the world, as on she whirled; And away with the world went we.

I heard a dainty cavalier

Sing to his ladye love,

While fountains in the moon-rays plashed,

And the lady sighed above;

And I heard the click of the cold white dice

With curses pealing free,

"And it's buzz!" quoth the world, as on she whirled; And away with the world went we.

I heard a swan's sweet dying song,

I heard the tempest's breath;

I heard a lady thrash her lord!

(And she thrashed him half to death);

I heard a scholar turning leaves;

The scream of an angry flea,

“And it's buzz!” quoth the world, as on she whirled; And away with the world went we.

Yes-music, thunder, growls, and groans,
With shouts and shots in store,
While powder-mills exploded fast—

And I could hear no more.

I stopped my ears-I howled a prayer,

And swooned in agony,

"And it's buzz!" quoth the world, as on she whirled;

And away with the world went we.

A SPARK IN THE ASHES.

I went to a gay reception.

Last winter in the West,

As the beau of the belle of the season,
Quite out of the season dressed.

For they told her no queen in story
Had a bust so blanche and fair;
And, like Samson, her strength and glory
Was all in her wondrous hair.

But I did not think of her tresses,
For directly vis-à-vis,

A dame in the simplest of dresses
Was flashing her eyes at me.

Eternal eyes of wonder!

How gloriously they rolled,

Like two black storm-lakes under

An autumn forest of gold.

For as Lilith's in her splendor

Like an aureole gleamed her head,

And a magic, strange yet tender,
Seemed winding in every thread.

And the beaux and the belles with their graces,

Where were they on the ancient shore? Oh, the sea had blown forth in our faces

A thousand years before

Sea-foam and weed and clam-shells
Which slid in the waves' long rolls!
Gay gentlemen-beautiful damsels !

Why, how did you come by those souls?

7. Locker

AN INVITATION TO ROME.

Oh, come to Rome, it is a pleasant place,

Your London sun is here and shining brightly; The Briton, too, puts on his cheery face,

And Mrs. Bull acquits herself politely. The Romans are an easy-going race,

With simple wives more dignified than sprightly; I see them at their doors, as day is closing, Prouder than duchesses, and more imposing.

A sweet far niente life promotes the graces,
They pass from dreamy bliss to wakeful glee,
And in their bearing and their speech, one traces
A breadth, a depth-a grace of courtesy
Not found in misty or inclement places;

Their clime and tongue are much in harmony :—
The Cockney met in Middlesex or Surrey,
Is often cold, and always in a hurry.

Oh, come to Rome, nor be content to read
Of famous palace and of stately street
Whose fountains ever run with joyful speed,
And never-ceasing murmur. Here we greet