L'ENVOI. These last I spoke. Then Florence said, AVICE AVICE "On serait tenté de lui dire, Bonjour, Mademoiselle la Bergeronnette."-VICTOR HUGO. HOUGH the voice of modern schools THOUGH Has demurred, 'Tis averred, By the dreamy Asian creed That the souls of men, released Sometimes enter in a beast,— I have watched you long, Avice, Watched you so, I have found your secret out; And I know That the restless ribboned things, Where your slope of shoulder springs, Are but undeveloped wings That will grow. When you enter in a room, It is stirred With the wayward, flashing flight Of a bird; And you speak—and bring with you When you called to me my name, When I heard your single cry All the sound was as the "sweet" 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. AVICE When you left me, only now, In that furred, Puffed, and feathered Polish dress, I was spurred Just to catch you, O my Sweet, 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 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. IF THE LOVE-LETTER “J'ai vu les mœurs de mon tems, et j'ai publié cette lettre.” -LA NOUVELLE HELOÏSE, F 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brilliancy (and banter), Byron ad lib., a chapter of Rousseau ; If this should fail, then tempora mutantur; Style's out of date, and love, as a profession, Acquires no aid from beauty of expression.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 |