TOO LATE. "When we want, we have for our pains The promise that if we but wait Till the want has burned out of our brains, While we send for the napkin the soup gets cold, 215 "When strawberries seemed like red heavens- When my brain was at sixes and sevens, When the goodies all came in a stream! in a stream ! "I've a splendid blood horse, and—a liver That it jars into torture to trot; My row-boat's the gem of the river— I can buy boundless credits on Paris and Rome, "How I longed, in that lonest of garrets, A rose-bush--a little thatched cottage- With a woman's chair empty close by-close by! "Ah! now, though I sit on a rock, I have shared one seat with the great; But the lips that kissed, and the arms that caressed, Longing. F all the myriad moods of mind OF That through the soul come thronging, Which one was e'er so dear, so kind, So beautiful as longing? The thing we long for that we are, Still through our paltry stir and strife, To let the new life in, we know, Perhaps the longing to be so Longing is God's fresh heavenward will, With our poor earthward striving; We quench it that we may be still EACH AND ALL. But would we know that heart's full scope, Our lives must climb from hope to hope, Ah! let us hope that to our praise The moments when we tread his ways, That some slight good is also wrought When we are simply good in thought, JAMES R. Lowell. 217 L' Each and All ITTLE thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked clown, Of thee from the hill-top looking down; The heifer that lows in the upland farm, Deems Stops his horse, and lists with delight, Nothing is fair or good alone. I thought the sparrow's note from heaven, The delicate shells lay on the shore; I wiped away the weeds and foam- With the sun, and the sand, and the wild uproar. The lover watched his graceful maid As 'mid the virgin train she strayed; Nor knew her beauty's best attire Was woven still by the snow-white choir. At last she came to his hermitage, Like the bird from the woodlands to the cage; The gay enchantment was undone― A gentle wife, but fairy none. Then I said, "I covet truth; Beauty is unripe childhood's cheat I leave it behind with the games of youth."- The ground-pine curled its pretty wreath, I inhaled the violet's breath; Around me stood the oaks and firs; Pine-cones and acorns lay on the ground; Over me soared the eternal sky, Full of light and of deity; Again I saw, again I heard, The rolling river, the morning bird; I yielded myself to the perfect whole. RALPH W. EMERSON. QUA CURSUM VENTUS. 219 AS Qua Cursum Ventus. S ships, becalmed at eve, that lay With canvas drooping, side by side, Two towers of sail, at dawn of day Are scarce long leagues apart descried; When fell the night unsprung the breeze, E'en so-but why the tale reveal Of those whom, year by year unchanged, Brief absence joined anew, to feel, Astounded, soul from soul estranged? At dead of night their sails were filled, Or wist what first with dawn appeared. To veer, how vain! On, onward strain, But O, blithe breeze! and O, great seas! One port, methought, alike they sought- ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH. |