'Tell me though, my mother my dear, What's the knocking that I hear?'

'Daughter, it's the carpenter Mending planks upon the stair.'

"Tell me too, my mother my dear,
What's the singing that I hear?'

Daughter, it's the priests in rows
Going round about our house.'

'Tell me then, my mother my dear, What's the dress that I should wear?

'Daughter, any reds or blues, But the black is most in use.'

'Nay, but say, my mother my dear, Why do you fall weeping here?'

'Oh! the truth must be said, – It's that John of Tours is dead.'

'Mother, let the sexton know That the grave must be for two;

'Aye, and still have room to spare, For you must shut the baby there.'

MY FATHER'S CLOSE.

(Old French.)

INSIDE my father's close,

(Fly away O my heart away!) Sweet apple-blossom blows

So sweet.

Three kings' daughters fair,

(Fly away O my heart away!) They lie below it there

(Fly away O my heart away!)

I think the day's begun

So sweet.'

'Ah!' says the second one, (Fly away O my heart away!)

Far off I hear the drum

So sweet.'

Ah!' says the youngest one, (Fly away O my heart away!)

Oh! if he fight and win,'

(Fly away O my heart away!)

'I keep my love for him,

So sweet:

Oh let him lose or win,

He hath it still complete

BEAUTY.

(A combination from Sappho.)

I.

LIKE the sweet apple which reddens upon the topmost bough,

A-top on the topmost twig,—which the pluckers for

got, somehow,

Forgot it not, nay, but got it not, for none could get it till now.

II.

Jike the wild hyacinth flower which on the hills is found, Which the passing feet of the shepherds for ever tear and wound,

Until the purple blossom is trodden into the ground.

YOUTH AND LORDSHIP.*

(Italian Street-Song.)

My young lord's the lover
Of earth and sky above,

Of youth's sway and youth's play,
Of songs and flowers and love.