LIFE'S MYSTERY.

LIFE'S sadly solemn mystery,
Hangs o'er me like a weight;
The glorious longing to be free,
The gloomy bars of fate.
Alternately the good and ill,

The light and dark, are strung; Fountains of love within my heart, And hate upon my tongue.

Beneath my feet the unstable ground,
Above my head the skies;
Immortal longings in my soul,
And death before my eyes.

No purely pure, and perfect good,
No high, unhindered power;
A beauteous promise in the bud,
And mildew on the flower.

tune;

spring;

No matter who-the deed was done By one or both, and there it lies; The smile from the lip forever gone, And darkness over the beautiful

eyes.

Our love is dead, and our hope is wrecked;

So what does it profit to talk and rave, Whether it perished by my neglect, Or whether your cruelty dug its grave!

Why should you say that I am to blame,

Or why should I charge the sin on you?

Our work is before us all the same, And the guilt of it lies between us

two.

We have praised our love for its beauty and grace;

Now we stand here, and hardly dare

To turn the face-cloth back from the face,

And see the thing that is hidden there.

And, since we cannot lessen the sin

By mourning over the deed we did, Let us draw the winding-sheet up to the chin,

Ay, up till the death-blind eyes are hid!

THE LADY JAQUELINE. "FALSE and fickle, or fair and sweet, I care not for the rest, The lover that knelt last night at my feet

Was the bravest and the best. Let them perish all, for their power has waned,

And their glory waxed dim; They were well enough while they lived and reigned,

But never was one like him! And never one from the past would I bring

Again, and call him mine; The King is dead, long live the King!"

Said the Lady Jaqueline.

"In the old, old days, when life was new,

And the world upon me smiled,

last,

And the beautiful life of our life is o'er,

And when we have buried and left the past,

We two, together, can walk no

more.

You might stretch yourself on the dead, and weep,

And pray as the prophet prayed, in pain;

But not like him could you break the sleep,

And bring the soul to the clay again.

Its head in my bosom I can lay,

And shower my woe there, kiss on kiss,

But there never was resurrection-day| In the world for a love so dead as this.

Whom I loved with the heart of a

child.

When the buried sun of yesterday

Comes back from the shadows dim, Then may his love return to me,

And the love I had for him! But since to-day hath a better thing To give, I'll ne'er repine;The King is dead, long live the King!"

Said the Lady Jaqueline.

"And yet it almost makes me weep, Aye! weep, and cry, alas! When I think of one who lies asleep Down under the quiet grass. For he loved me well, and I loved again,

And low in homage bent, And prayed for his long and prosperous reign,

In our realm of sweet content.

I bowed for a single day,

Unfit for place or sway.

That must have been the work of a spell,

For the foolish glamour fled, As the sceptre from his weak hand fell,

[head;

And the crown from his feeble But homage true at last I bring

To this rightful lord of mine,The King is dead, long live the King!"

Said the Lady Jaqueline.

Smoothing away from my forehead the tresses;

When up from my heart to my cheek went the blushes,

As he said that my voice was as sweet as the thrush's;

dear,

And called my liege, my own! I was set aside in a single year,

And a new queen shares his throne. To him who is false, and him who is wed,

Shall I give my fealty? Nay, the dead one is not half so dead

As the false one is to me!

My faith to the faithful now I bring,
The faithless I resign;
The King is dead, long live the
King!"

Said the Lady Jaqueline.

witchingly jetty,

And I answered 't was only my love made them pretty!

woman;

human.

be over,

I shall still love him, and he be my lover;

That 'mid flowers more fragrant than clover or heather

My Archie and I shall be always together,

Loving eternally, met ne'er to sever, Then you may tell me of heaven for

ever.

CONCLUSIONS.

I SAID, if I might go back again To the very hour and place of my birth;

Might have my life whatever I chose, And live it in any part of the earth;

Put perfect sunshine into my sky, Banish the shadow of sorrow and doubt;

Have all my happiness multiplied,

And all my suffering stricken out;

If I could have known in the years now gone,

The best that a woman comes to know;

Could have had whatever will make her blest,

Or whatever she thinks will make

her so;

Have found the highest and purest

bliss

That the bridal-wreath and ring enclose;

And gained the one out of all the world,

That my heart as well as my reason chose;

And if this had been, and I stood tonight

By my children, lying asleep in their beds

And could count in my prayers, for a

rosary,

The shining row of their golden heads;

bidding, still

[is,

I would choose to have my past as it And to let my future come as it will!