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Can this broad hat, fasten'd under
With a bright blue ribbon's flow,
Change my pet so much, I wonder,
Of a month or two ago?

Half too changed to speak I thought her,
Till the pictured silence broke,
Sweet and clear as dropping water,
Into words she sung or spoke.

Few her words; yet, like a sister,
Trustfully she look'd and smiled;
'Twas but in my soul I kiss'd her
As I used to kiss the child.

Shadows, which are not of sadness,

Touch her eyes, and brow above. As pale wild roses dream of redness, Dreams her innocent heart of love.

WILLIAM ALLINGHAM.

SERENADE.

I.

LEEP, lady fair!

Oh but thy couch should be

The fleeciest cloudlet of the summer air,
The softest billow of the summer sea ;-
Or that unforsaken rest

I keep warm in my true breast,
For thee, for thee!

Dream, lady sweet!

II.

The moon and planets bright

Now thread thy slumbers with unsounding feet, Now drench thy fancies with unshaped delight:

As my spirit fain would steep Thine, when only half asleep, This night, this night!

III.

Wake, lady mine!

See! are awake the flowers,

Their opening cusps bright tipped with dewy wine, And, buoyed on song, the moist lark trills and towers.

Wake! If thou must be away

Nightly, let at least the day

Be ours, be ours!

ALFRED AUSTIN.

AT HER WINDOW.

B

EATING heart! we come again

Where my Love reposes: This is Mabel's window-pane ;

These are Mabel's roses.

Is she nested?

Does she kneel

In the twilight stilly;

Lily clad from throat to heel,

She, my virgin lily?

Soon the wan, the wistful stars,
Fading, will forsake her;
Elves of light, on beamy bars,
Whisper then, and wake her.

Let this friendly pebble plead
At her flowery grating,
If she hear me will she heed?
Mabel, I am waiting!

Mabel will be deck'd anon,
Zoned in bride's apparel;

Happy zone!-oh hark to yon
Passion-shaken carol!

Sing thy song, thou trancèd thrush,
Pipe thy best, thy clearest ;-
Hush, her lattice moves, oh hush-

Dearest Mabel!-dearest . . .

FREDERICK LOCKER.

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