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Lord Beaconsfield's Youth,
The Franco-Chinese Treaty and British Afloat with a Florida Sponger,
INDEX TO VOLUME CLXVI.
Afgban Jailer, An
309 House, A, Divided against Itself, 39, 100, 158,
241, 287, 356, 423, 473, 560, 620, 677,
Anarchism in Switzerland,
763, 818 Huguenot Reformation, The, in the Nor.
254 INSANITY and Genius,
314 Irish Parliament, The, of 1782,
344 KRAKATOA Eruption, The 570, 693, 753, 814
Elegy, The Poet of.
French, The, in North America,
Great Keinplatz Experiment, The : 458 Nithsdaill, Winifred, Countess of .
PARAGUAY, to, From Montevideo, . 89, 290 | Schwartz: a History,
466 Sanitary Conference, The International,
643 in Rome,
At the Station on an Autumn Morning, 2 | Kalanos to Alexander,
Best Wine Last,
Mary of Portugal, Death of
Ego and Non-Ego, .
In a Hammock,
642 Then and Now,
14, 269, 602, 799
Fortune's Wheel, 80, 138, 337, 404, 653, 722 Passenger, A, from Shanghai,
Schwartz: a History,
740, 785 | Unexplained, .
AT THE STATION ON AN AUTUMN Her gentle presence,
- far brighter MORNING.
The glory my thoughts set around her. FROM THE ITALIAN OF GIOSUE CARDUCCI,
There in the rain, in the dreary darkness LAMP after lamp how the lights go trooping, I turn me, and with them would mingle my Stretching behind the trees, dreamily yonder; being; Through the branches adrip with the shower I stagger; then touch myself grimly – The light slants and gleams on the puddles. Not yet as a ghost am I moving. Plaintively, shrilly, piercingly whistles O what a falling of leaves, never-ending, The engine hard by. Cold and grey are the Icy, and silent, and sad, on my spirit ! heavens
I feel that forever around me Up above, and the Autumn morning
The earth has grown all one November. Ghostlike glimmers around me.
Better to be without sense of existence Whither and whence move the people hurrying Better this gloom, and this shadow of darkInto dark carriages, muffled and silent ? To what sorrows unknown are they rushing – Would I, ah, would I were sleeping Long tortures of hopes that will tarry?
A dull sleep that lasteth forever.
H. COURTHOPE BOWEN.
THEN AND NOW.
The sky was blue, Black-capped, up and down keep moving like Our hearts were true, shadows;
Bright shone the sun that summer morn; In his hand bears each one a lantern,
The birds sang sweet, And each one a hammer of irom.
And at our feet And the iron they strike sends a hollow re.
Lay waving fields of yellow corn. sounding
With love and faith Mournful; and out of the heart an echo
As strong as death, Mournfully answers, a sudden
Without a tear we turned away; Dull pang of regret that is weary.
'Tis now we weep,
At one fell sweep Now the hurrying slam of the doors grows in
Our sun is hid, our sky is gray. sulting And loud, and scornful the rapidly sounding
For pride is strong Summons to start and delay not ;
When hearts are young ; The rain dashes hard on the windows.
And bitter words that once are spoken,
With maddening pain ;
And faith and vows and hearts are broken. And opens its eyes, and startles The dim far space with a challenge.
MARY J. MURCHIE.
As o'er the hushed hills and the sleeping plain,
After long hours, the weary watcher sees O sweet face flushed with the palest of roses !
The night grow pale, and hears amid the trees O starlike eyes so peaceful! O forehead The wind that swooned at even wake again ; Pure-shining and gentle, with tresses
While one by one the starry clusters wane, Curling so softly around it.
Till, lonely left, more silvery clear than these,
Mild Phosphor rules the dawn's soft mys. The air with a passionate life was a-tremble,
teries, And summer was glad when she smiled to greet Ushering in Hyperion's golden reign ; me ;
So, taking simple nature for its theme, The young sun of June bent earthward
Thy gentle song, inspired with purpose high, And kissed her soft cheek in his rapture. Shot through the latter dusk a welcome gleam,
Gracing afresh the realms of Poesy, Full 'neath the nut-brown hair he kissed her ; And sparkling purely with its playful beam But though his beauty and splendor might In herald-radiance told of Wordsworth nigh. circle
HERBERT B. GARROD.