best lines; but I persuaded him to re- dusky figure standing by her side, and place it when he came home. It is a that is all. mistake in general for him to listen to Sometimes she lives confusedly to the suggestions of others about his the world of imagination as the Abbess poems." at Almesbury; and sometimes, as one All this was long ago, and the finger who knew her has said, she was like of memory has left faint tracings for the first of the three queens, “the tallme to follow; but I recall her figure est of them all, and fairest," who bore at dinner as she sat in her soft white away the body of Arthur. She was muslin dress, tied with blue, at that no less than these, being a living intime hardly whiter than her face or spiration at the heart of the poet's bluer than her eyes, and how the boys every-day life. stood sometimes one on either side of It would seem to be upon another her in their black velvet dresses, like visit that we were talking together in Millais' picture of the princes in the the drawing-room about Browning. tower, and sometimes helped to serve “We should like to see him oftener," the guests. By and by we adjourned she said, "he is delightful company, to another room, where there was a but we cannot get him to come here; fire and a shining dark table with we are too quiet for him!” fruit and wine after her own pictur- I found food for thought in this litesque fashion, and where later the tle speech when I remembered the poet read to us, while she, being al- fatuous talk at dinner-tables where I ways delicate in health, took her ac- had sometimes met Browning, and customed couch, I remember the thought of Tennyson's great talk and quaint apartment for the night, on the lofty serenity of his lady's presdifferent levels, and the faded tapes- ence. try, recalling “the faded mantle and My last interview with Lady Tennythe faded veil,” her tender personal son was scarcely two months before care, and her friendly good-night, Tennyson's death. The great grief of the silence, the sweetness, and the their life in the loss of their son Lionel calm. had fallen upon them meanwhile. She sometimes joined our out-door They were then at Aldworth, which, expeditions, but could not walk with although a house of their own build For years she used a wheeled ing, was far more mediæval in appearchair, as Mrs. Ritchie has charmingly ance than Farringford. She described in her truthful and sympa- alone, and still on the couch in the thetic sketch of the life at Aldworth. large drawing-room, and there she I only associated ner with the inte- spoke with the same youth of heart, rior, where her influence was per- the same deep tenderness, the same fect. simple affection which had The social atmosphere of Farring failed through years of intercourse. ford, which depended upon its mis- When she rose to say farewell and to tress, was warm and simple. A pleas- follow as far as possible, she ant company of neighbors and friends stepped with the same spirited sweep was gathered when “Maud” was read I had first seen. aloud to us, a wide group, grateful and The happiness of welcoming her appreciative, and one to which he liked lovely face, which wore to those who to read. knew her an indescribable heavenliAfter this the mists of time closed ness, is mine no more; but the memory over! I can recall her again in the cannot be effaced of one lady who grey dress and kerchief following our held the traditions of human existfootsteps to the door. I can see her ence. graceful movement of the head as she From "Authors and Friends." By Annie Fields waved her adieux; I can see the poet's Houghton, Miffin & Company, Publishers. us. me POEMS BY H. C. BUNNER. Are less than the sick whose smiles come quick FORFEITS. At the touch of my lady's hand. Her little shoe of satin Peeps underneath her skirt- And a foot so small ought never at all Although–I can't say what it meant To move in mire and dirt. But oh! she goes among the poor, The little maid looked ill-content. And heavy hearts rejoiceHis task was then anew begun As they can tell who know her well- To hear my lady's voice. her glove is soft as feathers She bent her eyes upon the floor Upon the nestling dove: I think she thought the game a bore. Its touch so light I have no right To think, to dream of love He circled then his sweet behest But oh! when, claa in simplest garb, To kiss the one he loved the best. She goes where none may see, For all she frowned, for all she chid, I watch, and pray that some happy day He kissed that little maid, he did. My lady may pity ME. FEMININE. She might have known it in the earlier Spring, stirred: wing, I told her: but she smiled and said no word. The Autumn's eager hand his red gold grasped, And she was silent: till from skies grown drear Fell soft one fine, first snow-flake, and she clasped My neck and cried, "Love, we have lost a year!" LET US HAVE PEACE." U. S. Grant-July 23, 1885. His words were armed men, Of wheat is mowed-and then earth smile again. The unbroken line of war, His victory was more: all before. Takes sadly up the blade, may cease He striveth undismayed, strength is stayed. This is his honor, dead. To glory o'er his head- dying bed. Take thou his spirit flown: Goes upward to thy throne- for Peace alone. Scribner's Sons, Publishers. THE FRIVOLOUS GIRL. Her silken gown it rustles As she goes down the stair: One half, one half so fair. And no one Ioner 'twas she- smiled Fler eyes grow bright, grow dini, And all around no man is found But thinks she thinks of him. But, oh! to her the best of all, Though they be great and grand, BOOKS OF THE MONTH. As Others See Us. By Amy E. Blan- Merry Five, The. By Penn Shirley. Lee chard. George W. Jacobs & Co., Pub- & Shepard, Publishers. Price 75 cents, lishers. Price 35 cents. Narrow Axe in Biblical Criticism, A. By Audiences. By Florence P. Holden. A. Rev. Charles Caverno, A.M., LL.D. C. McClurg & Co., Publishers. Price Charles H. Kerr & Co., Publishers. $1.25. Price $1.00. Authors and Friends. By Annie Fields. Old Country Idylls. By John Stafford. Houghton, Mifflin & Co., Publishers. Dodd, Mead & Co., Publishers. Price Price $1.50. $1.25. Beginners of a Nation, The. By Edward Poems. By H. C. Bunner. Charles Eggleston. D. Appleton & Co., Pub- Scribner's Sons, Publishers. Price lishers. Price $1.50. $1.75. Bohemian Legends. By F. P. Kopta. Richelieu. By Edward Bulwer Lytton. William R. Jenkins, Publisher. Price Illustrated by F. C. Gordon. Dodd, $1.00. Mead & Co., Publishers. Price $2.00. Charlotte Brontë and her Circle. By Rivals and School for Scandal, The. By Clement K. Shorter. Dodd, Mead & R. B. Sheridan. Illustrated by Ed. 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Old World Gelder paper. Bound in flexible Japan Series. Thomas Mosher, Publishers. Vellum. Price $1.00. Narrow Fcap 8vo. Van Gelder paper. Bound in flexible Japan Vellum. Price Life's Little Actions. By Amy E. Blan $1.00. chard. George W. Jacobs & Co., Publishers. Price 35 cents. Taquisara. By F. Marion Crawford. Marm Lisa. By Kate Douglas Wiggin. The Macmillan Company, Publishers. 2 vols. Price $2.00. Houghton, Mifflin & Co., Publishers. Price $1.00. Twenty Years Before the Mast. By Mercy Warren. By Alice Brown. Charles Erskine. George W. Jacobs & Charles Scribner's Sons, Publishers. Co., Publishers. Price $1.00. Price $1.25. I. A FREAK OF CUPID. In Three larts. Temple Bar, Fortnightly Review, Contemporary Review, Nineteenth Century, Speaker, Belgravia, VIII. " THE SEVEN SEAS," Saturday Review, IX. THE FOUR“SICK MEN” OF THE WORLD, Economist, 819 822 827 830 . TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION. FOR SIX DOLLARS remitted directly to the Publishers, THE LIVING AGE will be punctually forwarded for a year, free of postage. Reinittances should be made by bank draft or check, or by post-office money order, if possible. If neither of these can be procured, the money should be sent in a registered letter. All postmasters are obliged to register letters when requested to do so. Drafts, checks, and money-orders should be made payable to the order of THE LIVING AGE CO. Single copies of THE LIVING AGE, 15 cents. By the yesterdays were hidden, And to-morrow flowered unbidden Round feet that moved unchidden In their place. But Chenonceaux, lightly scorning Lapse of years and fortune's lies, Sing it, oh! sing it again to me! Watched the valley wake at morning And the sunset fill the skies Weary and spent as the hour draws near, With its pageant rare and splendid, Hush me to sleep with the soft wave Like a queen with pomp attended song, Till her little day is ended Wash all the cares away, wash all the And she dies. strifes away, All the old pains that to living belong. And doubtless yet some lady Spends her happy springtime there, And wanders through the shady Down at thy side I place me to rest; Woodland paths with loosened hair, Slowly my senses are stealing from me; Passions and pleadings have ceased in my Marks the night creep down and cover Or, laughing with her lover, breast, The grey walls built above her, And the Cher. Speaker. ARTIUR AUSTIN JACKSON. CHENONCEAUX. It was wrought in fashion rare, On the little, laughing Cher, Tall and fair. A GALE PASSING OVER GRAVES. The grasses bind: Yews at the root Of a tomb stand mute; fruit. And thither, spurring level With their plumes upon the breeze, Lusty hearts that ranged at ease 'Mid the trees. Lichens prey On the stony clay: to-day. Darksome the tomb: How the gales illume plume. Ah, the hunting and the hawking For the monarch and his man, In the château, when Diane Where it ran! Peaceful the grave; But how life is brave. But love may lose its glamour, And luck avert his face; The eyes that could enamour And the lips that granted grace Let the grasses bind! My dead I find MICHAEL FIELD. |