"'TIS MUSIC MINGLES, IN ONE SWEET MEASURE,

SUMMER.

One fatal remembrance, one sorrow that throws
Its bleak shade alike o'er our joys and our woes;
To which life nothing darker or brighter can bring,
For which joy has no balm and affliction no sting.

177

Oh! this thought in the midst of enjoyment will stay,
Like a dead leafless branch in the summer's bright ray:
The beams of the warm sun play round it in vain ;
It may smile in his light, but it blooms not again!

[THOMAS MOORE. From the "Irish Melodies."]

"THIS SPAN OF EARTH WE PRESS! THIS SPECK OF LIFE IN TIME'S GREAT WILDERNESS !"-MOORE.

SUMMER.

HE months we used to read of
Have come to us again,
With sunniness and sunniness,
And rare delights of rain :
The lark is up, and says aloud,
East and west I see no cloud,

The lanes are full of roses,
The fields are grassy deep;
The leafiness and floweriness
Make one abundant heap;

The balmy, blossom-breathing airs
Smell of future plums and pears.

The sunshine at our waking

Is still found smiling by;

With beamingness and earnestness,
Like some beloved eye;

THE PAST, THE PRESENT, AND FUTURE OF PLEASURE."-MOOre.

"BLEST POWER OF SUNSHINE! GENIAL DAY, WHAT BALM, WHAT LIFE, IS IN THY RAY !"-MOORE.

"AND 'TIS, AND EVER WAS, MY WISH AND WAY, TO LET ALL FLOWERS LIVE FREELY, AND ALL DIE," (LANDON)

178

SUNBEAM OF SUMMER! OH, WHAT IS LIKE THEE,

SUMMER.

"WHENE'ER THEIR GENIUS BIDS THEIR SOULS DEPART, AMONG THEIR KINDRED IN THEIR NATIVE PLACE."-LANDON.

HOPE OF THE WILDERNESS, JOY OF THE SEA!"-MRS. HEMANS.

"AND SPOTS OF GREENERY FOR POETS MADE."-LEIGH HUNT.

ABOU-BEN-ADHEM.

179

Ah! light your cheeks at Nature, do,

And draw the whole world after you.

[LEIGH HUNT. This genial and eloquent writer, whose keen appreciation of all that is tender and beautiful will ever render his works the bosomfriends of lovers of poetry and nature, was born at Southgate, Middlesex, in 1784, died 1859. He will be remembered by his "Legend of Florence," "Francesca of Rimini," "Captain Sword and Captain Pen," and his charming essays in prose.]

"BLEST IS THE TURF, SERENELY BLEST, WHERE THROBBING HEARTS MAY SINK TO REST."-LEIGH HUNT.

ABOU-BEN-ADHEM.

A LESSON ON LOVING OUR FELLOW-MEN.

|BOU-BEN-ADHEM—may his tribe increase !—

Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight of his room,

Making it rich and like a lily's bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold.
Exceeding peace had made Ben-Adhem bold;
And to the Presence in the room he said,
"What writest thou?" The vision raised his head
And, with a look made of all sweet accord,
Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."
"And is mine one?" said Abou." Nay, not so,'
Replied the angel. Abou spake more low,
But cheerily still, and said, "I pray thee, then,
Write me as one that loves his fellow-men."
The angel wrote, and vanished.—The next night
He came again, with a great wakening light,
And showed the names whom love of God had blest ;
And, lo! Ben-Adhem's name led all the rest.

[LEIGH HUNT.]

66

A BALMY BRISKNESS COMES UPON THE BREEZE."-LEIGH HUNT.

"THERE SHALL NO VAIN AMBITION COME, TO LURE THEM FROM THEIR QUIET HOME."-LEIGH HUNT.

"IN LOVING, THOU DOST WELL IN PASSION, NOT; WHEREIN TRUE LOVE CONSISTS NOT."-MILTON.

180

SUCH IS THE POWER OF THAT SWEET PASSION,

THE GLOVE AND THE LIONS.

K

THE GLOVE AND THE LIONS.

ING FRANCIS was a hearty king, and loved a royal
sport;

And one day, as his lions strove, sat looking on the

court:

The nobles filled the benches round, the ladies by their side,
And 'mongst them Count de Lorge, with one he hoped to
make his bride.

And truly 'twas a gallant thing to see that crowning show—
Valour and love, and a king above, and the royal beasts below.

Ramped and roared the lions, with horrid laughing jaws ;
They bit, they glared, gave blows like beams, a wind went
with their paws;

With wallowing might and stifled roar, they rolled one on
another,

Till all the pit with sand and wind was in a thund'rous smother;
The bloody foam above the bars came whizzing through the air :
Said Francis then, "Good gentlemen, we're better here than
there!"

De Lorge's love o'erheard the King-a beauteous, lively dame,
With smiling lips and sharp bright eyes, which always seemed
the same.

She thought: "The Count, my lover, is as brave as brave can be ;
He surely would do desperate things to show his love of me!
King, ladies, lovers, all look on-t
-the chance is wond'rous fine;

I'll drop my glove to prove his love: great glory will be mine!”

She dropped her glove to prove his love—then looked on him
and smiled;

He bowed, and in a moment leaped among the lions wild:

THAT IT ALL SORDID BASENESS DOTH EXPEL."-SPENSER.

"HE IS IN LOVE WITH AN IDEA-A CREATURE OF HIS OWN IMAGINATION."-LONGFELLOW.

"HEAVEN SHIELD THEE FOR THINE UTTER LOVELINESS!"-KEATS.

The leap was quick, return was quick; he soon regained his place,
Then threw the glove, but not with love, right in the lady's face.
"Well done!" cried Francis; "bravely done!" and he rose
from where he sat :

"No love," quoth he, "but vanity, sets love a task like that!"

(LEIGH HUNT. This agreeable ballad is founded on an incident related by Brantôme, which has also been poetically treated by the German poet, Schiller, and by our own poet Robert Browning.]

"TIME CONSECRATES; AND WHAT IS GRAY WITH AGE BECOMES RELIGION."-S. T. COLERIDGE.

HERE is Rome?

She lives but in the tale of other times;
Her proud pavilions are the hermit's home,
And her long colonnades, her public walks,

66 TIME MOVETH NOT; OUR BEING 'TIS THAT MOVES."-H. K. WHITE.

"ALL EARTHLY THINGS ARE BUT THE TRANSIENT PAGEANTS OF AN HOUR."-H. K. WHITE.