THE UNNOTICED BOUND. When, passing southward, I may cross the line By any startling signs, or strange commotions But if the days grow sweeter, one by one, And e'en the icebergs melt their hardened faces; And sailors linger basking in the sun, I know I must have made the change of places When, answering timidly the Master's call, The very moment when I thought I knew Him, But as increasingly I feel His love As this cold heart is melted to o'erflowing- I wonder at the change-and move on, knowing LOSSES.-FRANCES BROWNE.* Upon the white sea-sand Telling the losses that their lives had known; From breezy cliff and bay, And the strong tides went out with weary moan. One spake with quivering lip, With all his household to the deep gone down; For a fair face, long ago Lost in the darker depths of a great town. There were who mourned their youth For its brave hopes and memories ever green; Turned an eye that would not rest, *The blind poetess of Donegal. Some talked of vanished gold; Some spake of friends that were their trust no more; That made him sit so lonely on the shore. But, when their tales were done, A stranger, seeming from all sorrow free: But mine is heavier yet; For a believing heart hath gone from me " THE "COURSE OF LOVE" TOO "SMOOTH." She came tripping from the church-door, her face flushed by emotions awakened by the just uttered discourse, and eyes bright with loving expectation. He shivered on the curb-stone, where for an hour he had waited impatiently, with a burning heart fairly palpitating in his throat, and frozen fingers in his pockets. They linked arms and started for the residence of her parents. After a few moments' hesitating silence he said: "Jane, we have known each other long. You must know just how I feel. You must have seen that clear down at the bottom-O Moses!" He had slipped down on the ice with so much force that his spine was driven up into his hat, and his hat was tipped over his nose, but she was a tender-hearted girl. She did not laugh, but she carefully helped him to his feet, and said: "You were saying, John, when you slipped, that the foundation-Oh, goodness!" She slipped herself that time, and saw little stars come down to dance before her eyes, but he pulled her up in haste and went on "Yes; just as I said, clean down at the bottom of my heart is a fervent love, on which I build my hopes. That love has helped me stand and face-Thunder!" He was down again, but scrambled up before she could stoop to help him, and she said breathlessly: "Yes, yes, John. You remember you just said, a love which helped you stand and face thunder. And that you founded your hopes on-This pesky ice!" There she sat. John grasped the loose part of her sacque, between the shoulders, with one hand, and raised her to her feet, as one would lift a kitten from a pail of water by the back of the neck. Then he said, with increased earnestness: "Of course, darling; and I have longed for an opportunity to tell my love, and to hear those sweet lips whisper— Whoop!" Somehow John's feet had slipped from under him, and he had come down like a capital V with his head and feet pointing skyward. She twined her taper fingers in his curling locks and raised him to the stature of a man, set his hat firmly over his eyes with both hands, and cried, in breathless haste: "I understand; and let me assure you, John, that if it is in my power to lighten your cafes and make lighter your journey through life to-Jerusalem ?" John stood alone, and said with breathless vehemence: “Oh, my precious! and thus shall it be my lifelong pleasure to lift you from the rude assaults of earth and surround you with the loving atmosphere of―Texas!" And there they both sat together. They had nearly reached the gate, and, hand in hand, and with hearts overflowing with the bliss of young love's first confession, they crept along on their knees up to the front steps, and were soon forgetful of their bumps on the softest cushion of the parlor sofa. THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB.-BYRON. The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green, For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And there lay the steed with his nostrils all wide, And there lay the rider distorted and pale, And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, FORTY TO TWENTY. A DRAWING-ROOM DRAMA. Tears in your eyes! and why? Because you find Dear, silly coz, what else did you expect? You met the man, and though you said no word, You thought him brilliant-ay, he's truly so; 'Tis writ in books, 'tis said by wagging tongues, It makes a deal of difference in this world It takes but one, and woman is that one! He asks to taste the apple in her hand, But when you've longer lived you'll surely learn, And you'll be in your grave, as well as I, An axis of right reason. Weeping still? You fancy, coz, yours is the only heart That has been trifled with? You long for death? Because I'm handsome, rich, endowed with wit, And you, 'mong others, wish to wear my shoes. At your age I loved madly-loved with all I lived for this one man-for him alone; "Defy our will, and you may beg for bread |