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They drew their chairs up side by

side, Their pale cheeks joined, and said, ic Once more!

O memories!
O past that is !

- Saw


INVISIBLE.O MAY I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence :

live In pulses stirred to generosity, In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn For miserable aims that end with self, In thoughts sublime that pierce the

night like stars, And with their mild persistence urge

man's search To vaster issues.

So to live is heaven : To make undying music in the world, Breathing as beauteous order that con

trols With growing sway the growing life of

Its discords, quenched by meeting har

monies, Die in the large and charitable air, And all our rarer, better, truer self, That sobbed religiously in yearning

song, That watched to ease the burden of the

world, Laboriously tracing what must be, And what may yet be better –

within A worthier image for the sanctuary, And shaped it forth before the multi

tude Divinely human, raising worship so To higher reverence more mixed with

loveThat better self shall live till human

Time Shall fold its eyelids, and the human

sky Be gathered like a scroll within the

tomb Unread for ever.

This is life to come, Which martyred men have made more

glorious For us who strive to follow. May I

reach That purest heaven, be to other souls The cup of strength in some great

agony, Enkindle generous ardor, feed pure

love, Beget the smiles that have no cruelty Be the sweet presence of a good dif

fused, And in diffusion ever more intense. So shall I join the choir invisible Whose music is the gladness of the



So we inherit that sweet purity
For which we struggled, failed, and

agonized With widening retrospect that bred

despair. Rebellious flesh that would not be sub

dued, A vicious parent shaming still its child Poor anxious penitence, is quick dis




[BORN at Greenwich in 1820. Son of a watchmaker, at which business he was put when he was 14 years old. He has taken an active part in all the agitations for popular education during the past thirty years, is the Hon. Sec. to the Greenwich branch of the National Education League, and a member of the London Council. Has published several volumes of poems, but is best known as a song writer. Dr. Bennett is a practised political writer, and was for several years on the editorial staff of The Weekly Dispatch. The University of Tusculum conferred on him the degree of LL.D. in 1869. A collected edition of his poems appeared in 1862, in Routledge's British Poets.]

O, THOSE little, those little blue shoes ! For they mind her forevermore
Those shoes that no little feet use. Of a patter along the floor;
O the price were high

And blue eyes she sees
That those shoes would buy,

Look up from her knees, Those little blue unused shoes !

With the look that in life they wore.

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Died April 7.

(Born in Ireland about 1820; published in 1850 a volume of Ballads, Poems, and Lyrics, with translations from several modern languages. Issued in 1853 a translation of Calderon's dra. mas; in 1857 two new volumes of Poems; and, in 1872, Shelby's Early Life, from original

In 1871 he received a pension of £100, in recognition of literary merit. 1882.]

SUMMER LONGINGS. AH! my heart is weary waiting, Ah! my heart is sick with longing, Waiting for the May,

Longing for the May, Waiting for the pleasant rambles Longing to escape from study Where the fragrant hawthorn-brambles, To the young face fair and ruddy, With the woodbine alternating,

And the thousand charms belonging Scent the dewy way.

To the summer's day. Ah! my heart is weary waiting, Ah! my heart is sick with longing, Waiting for the May.

Longing for the May.

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[Born in 1821, son of Mr. E. H. Locker, a civil commissioner of Greenwich Hospital, and founder of the Naval Gallery there. Mr. Locker has contributed reviews to the Times, and verses to the Times, Blackwood, the Cornhill, and Punch, which have been collected in a volume called London Lyrics. His Poems have also been recently published in this country.] A HUMAN SKULL.

It may have held (to shoot some ranA HUMAN Skull! I bought it passing

dom shots) cheap,

Thy brains, Eliza Fry! or Baron ByIndeed 'twas dearer to its first em

ron's; ployer !

The wits of Nelly Gwynn, or Doctor

Watts — I thought mortality did well to keep Some mute memento of the Old De- Two quoted bards. Two philanstroyer.

thropic sirens.

If man

Time was, some may have prized its

blooming skin; Her lips were woo'd, perhaps, in

transport tender; Some may have chuck'd what was a

dimpled chin, And never had my doubt about its


But this ytrust is clearly understood;

or woman, if adored or

hated Whoever own'd this Skull was not so

good, Nor quite so bad as many may have


Did she live yesterday or ages back?
What color were the eyes when bright

and waking?
And were your ringlets fair, or brown,

or black, Poor little head! that long has done

with aching?

Who love can need no special type of

Death steals his icy hand where Love

Alas for love, alas for fleeting breath-
Immortelles bloom with Beauty's

bridal roses.

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(ELDEST son of the late Rev. Thos. Arnold, D.D., head-master of Rugby, born Dec. 24, 1822, at Laleham, Middlesex Co. Educated at Winchester, Rugby, and Baliol College, Oxford; graduated in 1844, and was elected a Fellow of Oriel College in 1845. Secretary to Lord Lansdowne from 1847 to 1857, when he was appointed one of the Lay Inspectors of Schools, under the Committee of Council on Education, a post which he still holds. In 1854 he published a volume of Poems under his own name, his previous volumes in 1848 and 1853 having been published without the name of the author. Elected Professor of Poetry at Oxford in 1857, which office he held till 1867. He has published several volumes of Poems and Essays, which are highly esteemed. “The strain of his mind,” says an anonymous critic," is calm and thoughtful; his style is the reverse of florid; deep culture, and a certain severity of taste have subdued every tendency to gay or passionate exuberance."] YOUTH'S AGITATIONS. “ Christ,” some one says,

was human

as we are; WHEN I shall be divorced, some ten

No judge eyes us from Heaven, our sin years hence,

to scan; From this poor present self which I am now;

We live no more, when we have done When youth has done its tedious vain

our span.” expense

“Well, then, for Christ,” thou answerOf passions that for ever ebb and

est, “who can care? flow;

From sin, which Heaven records not,

why forbear? Shall I not joy youth's heats are left

Live we like brutes our life without a behind, And breathe more happy in an even


So answerest thou; but why not rather Ah no, for then I shall begin to find A thousand virtues in this hated time!


“Hath man no second life? - Pitch this Then I shall wish its agitations back,

one high!

Sits there no judge in Heaven, our sin And all its thwarting currents of de

to see?sire; Then I shall praise the heat which then I lack,

More strictly, then, the inward judge And call this hurrying fever, generous

obey !

Was Christ a man like us? — Ah ! let fire;

us try And sigh that one thing only has been

If we then, too, can be such men as he !' lent To youth and age in common discontent.


Go, for they call you, shepherd, from the THE BETTER PART.

hill; LONG fed on boundless hopes, O race of Go, shepherd, and untie the wattled man,

cotes ! How angrily thou spurn'st all simpler No longer leave thy wistful flock fare!


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