"WISDOM, SELF-SACRIFICE, DARING, AND LOVE,-(C. KINGSLEY)

Her crisp hot lips against the crisp hot sward:
And then she raised her head, and upward cast
Wild looks from homeless eyes, whose liquid light
Gleamed out between deep folds of blue-black hair,
As gleam twin lakes between the purple peaks
Of deep Parnassus, at the mournful moon.

Beside her lay her lyre. She snatched the shell,
And waked wild music from its silver strings;
Then tossed it sadly by.-"Ah, hush!" she cries,
"Dead offspring of the tortoise and the mine!
Why mock my discords with thy harmonies?
Although a thrice-Olympian lot be thine,
Only to echo back in every tone

The words of nobler natures than thine own."

[From "Andromeda, and Other Poems," Parker, edit. 1862.]

"WHILE A LIP GROWS RIPE FOR KISSING, WHILE A MOAN FROM MAN IS WRUNG, KINGSLEY)

KNOW, BY EVERY WANT AND BLESSING, THAT THE WORLD IS YOUNG."-CHARLES KINGSLEY.

THE SANDS OF DEE.

MARY, go and call the cattle home,

And call the cattle home,

And call the cattle home

Across the sands of Dee;"

The western wind was wild and dank with foam,

And all alone went she.

The western tide crept up along the sand,

And o'er and o'er the sand,

And round and round the sand,

As far as eyes could see.

The rolling mist came down and hid the land:

And never home came she.

HASTE TO THE BATTLE-FIELD, STOOP FROM ABOVE."-KINGSLEY.

248

66 TRUE HEARTS WILL LEAP UP AT THE TRUMPET OF GOD,

REV. CHARLES KINGSLEY.

"Oh! is it weed, or fish, or floating hair

A tress of golden hair,

A drowned maiden's hair,

Above the nets at sea?

Was never salmon yet that shone so fair

Among the stakes on Dee."

They rowed her in across the rolling foam,
The cruel crawling foam,*

The cruel hungry foam,†

To her grave beside the sea:

But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home

Across the sands of Dee.

[From "Andromeda, and Other Poems," edit. 1862.]

"FALL WARM, FALL FAST, THOU MELLOW RAIN; THOU RAIN OF GOD, MAKE FAT THE LAND

A FAREWELL.

|Y fairest child, I have no song to give you;
No lark could pipe to skies so dull and gray;
Yet, ere we part, one lesson I can leave you
For every day.

Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever ;
Do noble things, not dream them, all day long :
And so make Life, Death, and that vast For-ever
One grand, sweet song.

[From "Andromeda, and Other Poems," edit. 1862.]

* "With what an hungry life the ocean deep
Lappeth for ever the white-breasted sands!"

ALEXANDER SMITH.

+ These expressions are quoted by Ruskin in his "Modern Painters," vol. iii., part iv., as an instance of what he calls the pathetic fallacy in modern poetry. And yet, to any one who has seen the in-rush of the tide of a great estuary, the foam does, of a truth, seem hungry and cruel-in search of victims.

AND THOSE WHO CAN SUFFER, CAN DARE."-C. KINGSLEY.

THAT ROOTS, WHICH PARCH IN BURNING SAND, MAY BUD TO FLOWER AGAIN."-C. KINGSLEY.

BUT THERE ARE SOME WHOSE LOVE IS HIGH,

THE COVENANTERS.

249

L. E. Landon.

[THIS lady is perhaps best known as L. E. L., the initials under which
she published her earliest poems in The Literary Gazette. Her larger
works are
"The Improvisatrice," "The Golden Violet," and "The Trou-
badour," and some ably-written novels, of which "Ethel Churchill" and
"Romance and Reality" are the best. She was born at Hans Place,
Chelsea, in 1802; and in 1838 married Mr. George Maclean, Governor of
Cape Coast Castle. She landed at Cape Coast in August, and on the 16th
of October was found lying dead in her room, with a bottle in her hand
containing prussic acid. It is supposed she took an overdose to relieve the
pains of a spasmodic complaint from which she suffered. Her poetry is
characterized by feeling, freedom, and vigour, but pervaded by a tone of
melancholy which sometimes grows unwholesome.]

"O'ER SOME LOVE'S SHADOW MAY BUT PASS AS PASSES THE BREATH-STAIN O'ER GLASS,

AND PLEASURES, CARES, AND PRIDE COMBINED, FILL UP THE BLANK."-L. E. LANDON.

THE COVENANTERS.

INE home is but a blackened heap
In the midst of a lonesome wild,
And the owl and the bat may their night-
watch keep

Where human faces smiled.

I rocked the cradle of seven fair sons,
And I worked for their infancy;

But, when like a child in mine own old age,
There are none to work for me.

Never! I will not know another home.
Ten summers have passed on, with their blue skies,
Green leaves, and singing-birds, and sun-kissed fruit,
Since here I first took up my last abode;
And here my bones shall rest. You say it is
A home for beasts, and not for human kind,

ENTIRE AND SOLE IDOLATRY."-L. E. LANDON.

"AND SOME THERE ARE WHO LEAVE THE PATH IN AGONY AND FIERCE DISDAIN, L. E. LANDON)

66

WHERE IS THE SORROW BUT APPEARS-(L. E. Landon)

This bleak shed and bare rock; and that the vale
Below is beautiful. I know the time

When it looked very beautiful to me!

Do you see that bare spot, where one old oak
Stands black and leafless, as if scorched by fire,
While round it the ground seems as if a curse
Were laid upon the soil? Once by that tree,
Then covered with its leaves and acorn crop,
A little cottage stood: 'twas very small,
But had an air of health and peace. The roof
Was every morning vocal with the song
Of the rejoicing swallows, whose warm nest
Was built in safety underneath the thatch;
A honeysuckle on the sunny side

Hung round its lattices its fragrant trumpets.
Around was a small garden: fruit and herbs
Were there in comely plenty; and some flowers,
Heath from the mountains, and the wilding bush
Gemmed with red roses, and white apple-blossoms,
Were food for the two hives, whence all day long
There came a music like the pleasant sound
Of lulling waters. And at even-tide
It was a goodly sight to see around

Bright eyes, and faces lighted up with health,
And youth, and happiness: these were my children,
That cottage was mine home......

There came a shadow o'er the land, and men
Were hunted by their fellow-men like beasts,
And the sweet feelings of humanity
Were utterly forgotten; the white head,
Darkened with blood and dust, was often laid
Upon the murdered infant, for the sword
Of pride and cruelty was sent to slay

IN LOVE'S LONG CATALOGUE OF TEARS."-L. E. LANDON.

BUT BEAR UPON EACH CANKERED BREAST THE SCAR THAT NEVER HEALS AGAIN."-L. E. LANDON.

"THE MANY MEANNESSES, THE PETTY CARES, THE LONG AVOIDANCE OF A THOUSAND SNARES,-(LANDON)

"DECEIT IS THIS WORLD'S PASSPORT: WHO WOULD DARE,

THE LIPS THAT MUST BE CHAINED, THE EYE SO TAUGHT TO IMAGE ALL BUT ITS OWN THOUGHT."-LANDON.

[" And white apple-blossoms, were food for the two hives."]
Those who in age would not forego the faith
They had grown up in. I was one of these:
How could I close the Bible I had read
Beside my dying mother, which had given
To me and mine such comfort? But the hand

Of the oppressor smote us.

There were shrieks,

HOWEVER PURE THE BREAST, TO LAY IT BARE?"-LANDON.