BRYANT

From "The Dead Master'

To the last hour of his long, honored life,
He never faltered in his love of Nature.
Recluse with men, her dear society,
Welcome at all times, savored of content,
Brightened his happy moments, and consoled
His hours of gloom.

Go where he would, he was not solitary,
Flowers nodded gayly to him, wayside brooks
Slipped by him laughingly, while the emulous birds
Showered lyric raptures that provoked his own.
The winds were his companions on the hills—
The clouds and thunders-and the glorious Sun,
Whose bright beneficence sustains the world,
A visible symbol of the Omnipotent,

Whom not to worship were to be more blind
Than those of old who worshiped stocks and stones.
Who loves and lives with Nature tolerates
Baseness in nothing; high and solemn thoughts
Are his, clean deeds and honorable life.

If he be poet, as our Master was,

His song will be a mighty argument,
Heroic in its structure to support

The weight of the world forever! All great things

Are native to it, as the Sun to Heaven.

Such was thy song, O Master! and such fame

As only the kings of thought receive, is thine;

Be happy with it in thy larger life

Where Time is not, and the sad word-Farewell!

RICHARD HENRY STODDARD

Publishers: Charles Søribner's Sons, New York

To limn the beauty of the earth and sky?
Before this inner gaze

Let all that beauty in clear vision lies
Look on it with exceeding love and write
The woold inspired by wonder and delight

Of tempesse wouldst those King.
Ar litt of battles, make thyselfa part
Of the great tumult, cling

to the tossed wreck with terror in they haurt Scale, with the assaulting host, the tamport's height, And Strike and struggle in the thickest fight

So shalt there frame alay

Which haply may endure from age to age,
And they who read shall say:

"It hat witching hangs upon this poots page! "What art is his the written spells to find "That way, from mood to nood, the willing mind! William Cullen Bryant

"BLESSINGS be with them, and eternal praise,

Who gave us nobler loves, and nobler cares, The Poets! who on earth have made us heirs Of truth and pure delight by heavenly lays!"

Go, little wonder-song,

Into the world of men!

Fill every heart with joy the whole year long,

And then come back again.

Ring over all the world,

In country, town and mart;

Inspire each soul that now is downward hurled, To rise and do his part.

Encourage those who fall

On battlefields of life

To rise, again, at Duty's bugle-call,

And conquer in the strife:

WILLIAM JAMES PRICE.

From Interludes, Baltimore.