-Yea, find each other! The remotest star
Of all the galaxies would hold in vain
Our souls apart, that have been heretofore
As closely interchangeable as are

One mind and spirit: Oh, joy that aches to pain, To be together-we two-forever more!

"SIT, JESSICA."

As there she stood-that sweet Venetian night—
Her pure face lifted to the skies a-swim

With stars from zenith to horizon's rim-
I think Lorenzo scarcely saw the light
Asleep upon the bank, or felt how bright

The patines were: She filled the heavens for him;
And in her low replies, the cherubim

Seemed softly quiring from some holy height.

And when he drew her down, and soothed her tears
Stirred by the minstrelsy, with passionate kiss,
Whose long, sweet iterations left her lips
Trembling, as roses tremble after sips

Of eager bees, the music of the spheres
Held not one rhythmic rapture like to this!

ALPENGLOW.

I.

-Yes, that's what I said;

The grass has been greening above his head

Two summers and more, yet-I scarce know why

There was that in his smile that could not die,

For it has not died. In this autumn ray,

(Ah me! the third since he went away!)

'Tis palpable as the Alpenglow

That clings to the footless slopes of snow,
As if to lighten, through evengloam,
Some loitering mountain-climber home;
Or rather, turn to the sunset hills
Yonder, and mark how the shadow fills
All of their sadden'd faces: one,-
The amber'd peak that is next the sun,
Holds yet to its breast, as I to mine,
A glint of the still-remembered shine:
-Well, that is the way

With the smile I was telling you of to-day.

II.

Have you watched a bird

Ever poise itself when something stirred
Its spirit to song? A quiver of throat,
The croon of a tremulous, trial note,

The catch with a crowding rapture crowned,

Then,-floods, where the swooning soul was drowned!

Even so, I have often sat apart

And marked the flutter about his heart

Thrill to his lips, as with a hum

Of voiceless music it seemed to come

And ripple around his mouth, with shy,
Impassionate answers of the eye,
While an overflush of marvelous grace
Would master, a-sudden, all his face,
Till the delicate nostril curved and swelled,
And the glance an eloquent sparkle held,
And a sense of song would come and go,
Such as dreamers watched by Ariel know;
-Well, that was the way

With the smile I was telling you of to-day.

III.

And because I said

The grass has been greening above his head
Two summers and o'er, shall I think, therefore,
That smile can ne'er be kindled more?

-That the grave could hold it, that cannot hold
Captive one straggling gleam of gold?
-That it's prisoned away in ashen'd clay,
As centuried sunbeams are to-day
'Neath fathoms of blacken'd strata? No!

"

Can essence immortal perish so?

When clouds have gathered betwixt the star
And the vision that watches it blazing far

In limitless ether, shall the eye

Drop earthward, and lips that are faithless, sigh,

Ah me! for the mist, the murk, the rain!

I never shall find my star again:"

While to spirits that come and go its shine
Has never before seemed so divine?

-Well, that is the way

With the smile I was telling you of to-day.

Edna Dean Proctor.

Еслия

FORWARD!

Dreamer, waiting for darkness with sorrowful, drooping eyes, Linger not in the valley, bemoaning the day that is done! Climb the eastern mountains and welcome the rosy skiesNever yet was the setting so fair as the rising sun!

Dear is the past; its treasures we hold in our hearts for aye; Woe to the hand that would scatter one wreath of its gar

nered flowers;

But larger blessing and honor will come with the waking day— Hail, then, To-morrow, nor tarry with Yesterday's ghostly hours!

Mark how the summers hasten through blossoming fields of

June

To the purple lanes of the vintage and levels of golden corn; "Splendors of life I lavish," runs nature's exultant rune, "For myriads press to follow, and the rarest are yet unborn."

Think how eager the earth is, and every star that shines,

To circle the grander spaces about God's throne that be; Never the least moon loiters nor the largest sun declinesForward they roll forever those glorious depths to see.

Dreamer, waiting for darkness with sorrowful, drooping eyes,
Summers and suns go gladly, and wherefore dost thou repine?
Climb the hills of morning and welcome the rosy skies—
The joy of the boundless future-nay, God himself is thine!

MOSCOW BELLS.

That distant chime!

As soft it swells,

What memories o'er me steal!

Again I hear the Moscow bells

Across the moorland peal!

The bells that rock the Kremlin tower
Like a strong wind, to and fro,-
Silver-sweet in its topmost bower,

And the thunder's boom below.

They say that oft at Easter dawn

When all the world is fair,

God's angels out of heaven are drawn

To list the music there.

And while the rose-clouds with the breeze

Drift onward, like a dream,

High in the ether's pearly seas
Their radiant faces gleam.

O when some Merlin with his spells
A new delight would bring,
Say I will hear the Moscow bells
Across the moorland ring!

The bells that rock the Kremlin tower
Like a strong wind, to and fro,—
Silver-sweet in its topmost bower,
And the thunder's boom below!