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THE MOUNTAIN FIR.

HEY sat beneath the mountain fir,
Beneath the evening sun;

With all his soul he looked at her—
And so was love begun.

The tit-mice blue in fluttering flocks
Caressed the fir-tree spray ;
And far below, through rifted rocks,
The river went its way.

As stars in heavenly waters swim,
Her eyes of azure shone ;

With all her soul she looked at him—

And so was love led on.

The squirrel sported on the bough,
And chuckled in his play;

Above the distant mountain's brow
A golden glory lay.

The fir-tree breathed its balsam balm,
With heather scents united;

The happy skies were hushed in calm-
And so the troth was plighted.

EARL OF SOUTHESK.

[graphic]

THE LETTER.

@HERE is another sweet as my sweet,

Fine of the fine, and shy of the shy?

Fine little hands, fine little feet-
Dewy blue eye.

Shall I write to her? shall I go?

Ask her to marry me by and by?

Somebody said that she'd say No;
Somebody knows that she'll say Ay!

Ay or no, if ask'd to her face?

Ay or no, from shy of the shy? Go, little letter, apace, apace,

Fly;

Fly to the light in the valley below-
Tell my wish to her dewy blue eye :
Somebody said that she'd say No;
Somebody knows that she'll say Ay!

ALFRED TENNYSON.

MARRIAGE MORNING.

PIGHT, so low upon earth,

You send a flash to the sun.

Here is the golden close of love,
All my wooing is done.

Oh, the woods and the meadows,
Woods where we hid from the wet,
Stiles where we stay'd to be kind,
Meadows in which we met !

Light, so low in the vale,

You flash and lighten afar,

For this is the golden morning of love, And you are his morning star.

Flash, I am coming, I come,

By meadow and stile and wood; Oh, lighten into my eyes and my heart, Into my heart and my blood!

Heart, are you great enough,

For a love that never tires?

O heart, are you great enough for love?
I have heard of thorns and briars.

Over the thorns and briars,

Over the meadows and stiles, Over the world to the end of it

Flash for a million miles.

ALFRED TENNYSON.

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