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WILLIAM WALLACE HARNEY.-LEWIS MORRIS.

yet a child, and he entered Louisville College. At the close of his educational course he taught school for awhile, then studied law, but in 1859 became connected as editor with the Louisville Daily Democrat, since which his labors have left him but brief opportunities for the cultivation of poetry.

JIMMY'S WOOING.

The wind came blowing out of the West,
And Jimmy mowed the hay;

The wind came blowing out of the West:
It stirred the green leaves out of their rest,
And rocked the bluebird up in his nest,
As Jimmy mowed the hay.

The swallows skimmed along the ground, And Jimmy mowed the hay;

The swallows skimmed along the ground, And rustling leaves made a pleasant sound, Like children babbling all around—

As Jimmy mowed the hay.

Milly came with her bucket by,

And Jimmy mowed the hay;

Milly came with her bucket by,
With wee light foot, so trim and sly,
And sunburnt cheek and laughing eye-
And Jimmy mowed the hay.

A rustic Ruth in linsey gown—

And Jimmy mowed the hay;

A rustic Ruth in linsey gown,

He watched her soft cheeks' changing brown, And the long dark lash that trembled down, Whenever he looked that way.

Oh! Milly's heart was good as gold,
And Jimmy mowed the hay;
Oh! Milly's heart was good as gold;
But Jimmy thought her shy and cold,
And more he thought than e'er he told,
As Jimmy mowed the hay.

The rain came pattering down amain,
Aud Jimmy mowed the hay;
The rain came pattering down amain;
And under the thatch of the laden wain,
Jimmy and Milly, a cunning twain,

Sat sheltered by the hay.

The merry rain-drops hurried in Under the thatch of hay;

The merry rain-drops hurried in,

And laughed and prattled in a din, Over that which they saw within, Under the thatch of hay.

For Milly nestled to Jimmy's breast,
Under the thatch of hay;
For Milly nestled to Jimmy's breast,
Like a wild bird fluttering to its nest;
And then I'll swear she looked her best
Under the thatch of hay.

And when the sun came laughing out
Over the ruined hay-

And when the sun came laughing out,
Milly had ceased to pet and pout,
And twittering birds began to shont,
As if for a wedding-day.

Lewis Morris.

853

Morris, born at Carmarthen, South Wales, Jan. 23d, 1833, graduated at Oxford with the highest classical honors in 1855; studied law, and practised at Lincoln's Inn till 1872. His "Songs of Two Worlds" appeared in three series in 1872, 1874, and 1875. His "Epic of Hades," which was not published in its completed form till 1878, has passed through ten editions in England, and been republished by Roberts Brothers, Boston. In 1878 appeared "Gwen;" and in 1880" The Ode of Life." Morris is the representative of an old Welsh family, and is a greatgrandson of Lewis Morris (1702-1765), the Welsh antiquary and poet.

IT SHALL BE WELL.

If thou shalt be in heart a child,
Forgiving, tender, meek, and mild,
Though with light stains of earth defiled,
O soul, it shall be well.

It shall be well with thee indeed,
Whate'er thy race, thy tongue, thy creed,
Thou shalt not lose thy fitting meed;
It shall be surely well.

Not where, nor how, nor when we know,
Nor by what stages thou shalt grow;
We may but whisper faint and low,
It shall be surely well.

It shall be well with thee, oh, soul,
Though the heavens wither like a scroll,
Though sun and moon forget to roll,-
O soul, it shall be well,

DEAR LITTLE HAND.

Dear little hand that clasps my own,

Embrowned with toil and seamed with strife;

Pink little fingers not yet grown

To the poor strength of after-life,--
Dear little hand!

Dear little eyes which smile on mine, With the first peep of morning light; Now April-wet with tears, or fine

With dews of pity, or laughing bright.

Dear little eyes!

Dear little voice, whose broken speech All eloquent utterance can transcend; Sweet childish wisdom strong to reach A holier deep than love or friend: Dear little voice!

Dear little life! my care to keep

From every spot and stain of siu; Sweet soul foredoomed, for joy or pain, To struggle and-which to fall or win? Dread mystical life!

THE TREASURE OF HOPE.

O fair bird, singing in the woods,
To the rising and the setting sun,
Does ever any throb of pain

Thrill through thee ere thy song be done: Because the summer fleets so fast;

Because the autumn fades so soon;

Because the deadly winter treads

So closely on the steps of June?

O sweet maid, opening like a rose

In Love's mysterious, honeyed air, Dost think sometimes the day will come When thou shalt be no longer fair: When Love will leave thee and pass on To younger and to brighter eyes; And thou shalt live unloved, alone,

A dull life, only dowered with sighs?

O brave youth, panting for the fight,
To conquer wrong and win thee fame,
Dost see thyself grown old and spent,

And thine a still unhonored name: When all thy hopes have come to naught,

And all thy fair schemes droop and pine;

And Wrong still lifts her hydra heads

To fall to stronger arms than thine?

Nay; song and love and lofty aims
May never be where faith is not;
Strong souls within the present live;

The future veiled, the past forgot:
Grasping what is, with hands of steel,

They bend what shall be, to their will; And, blind alike to doubt and dread, The End, for which they are, fulfil.

Edmund Clarence Stedman.

AMERICAN.

Born in Hartford, Conn., in 1833, Stedman was educated at Yale College, but did not graduate. His mother, whose maiden name was Dodge, was first married to Mr. Stedman, of Hartford, but after his death became the wife of William B. Kinney of the Newark Advertiser, subsequently United States Minister to Sardinia. Edmund inherited his mother's poetical tastes. He has published "The Diamond Wedding: Poems Lyric and Idyllie (1860); "The Blameless Prince, and other Poems" (1864); also a poem on Hawthorne; and "The Victorian Poets" (1879), a series of careful critical sketches. Not wishing to trust wholly to literature for a support, he became a member of the New York Stock Exchange, and was suecessful in his operations. The British Quarterly Review refers to him as "one of the most versatile, as well as one of the most refined and artistic of American poets." As a critic, too, he has won distinction.

PROVENÇAL LOVERS.

AUCASSIN AND NICOLETTE.

Within the garden of Beaucaire
He met her by a secret stair;-
The night was centuries ago.
Said Aucassin, "My love, my pet,
These old confessors vex me so!
They threaten all the pains of hell
Unless I give you up, ma belle ;"-
Said Aucassin to Nicolette.

"Now, who should there in Heaven be
To fill your place, ma très-douce mie?
To reach that spot I little care!
There all the droning priests are met;-
All the old cripples, too, are there
That unto shrines and altars cling
To filch the Peter-pence we bring;"-
Said Aucassin to Nicolette.

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Till the Rangers fired his dwelling, in his absence, Should be a name to swear by, in backwoods or in

And Old Brown, Osawatomie Brown,

Came homeward in the morning-to find his house burned down.

Then his beard became more grizzled, and his wild blue eye grew wilder,

And more sharply curved his hawk's-nose, snuffing battle from afar;

Then he grasped his trusty rifle, and boldly fought And he and the two boys left, though the Kansas

for freedom; Smote from border unto border the fierce, invad

[ing band;

strife waxed milder, [der War, Grew more sullen, till was over the bloody Bor

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It was on a Sunday evening, and Captain Stephens, Found an army come to take him, encamped around fifteen privates-black and white,

Captain Brown, Osawatomie Brown,

Marched across the bridged Potomac, and knocked

the sentry down;

the town.

But to storm, with all the forces I have mentioned, was too risky; [ment Marines, So they hurried off to Richmond for the Govern

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