"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!-prophet still, if bird or devil!

Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted

On this home by Horror haunted-tell me truly, I implore

Is there is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!"

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!-prophet still, if bird or devil!

By that heaven that bends above us-by that God we both adore,

Tell this soul, with sorrow laden, if, within the distant

Aidenn,

It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name Lenore;

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore!"

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird cr fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting

"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken!-quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas, just above my chamber

door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,

And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on

the floor

Shall be lifted-NEVERMORE!

Edgar Allan Poe.

KNEE-DEEP IN JUNE.

I

Tell you what I like the best-
'Long about knee-deep in June,
'Bout the time strawberries melts
On the vine,some afternoon
Like to jes' git out and rest,
And not work at nothin' else!

II

Orchard 's where I'd ruther be-
Need n't fence it in fer me!-
Jes' the whole sky overhead,
And the whole airth underneath-
Sort o' so's a man kin breathe
Like he ort, and kind o' has
Elbow-room to keerlessly

Sprawl out len'thways on the grass,
Where the shadders thick and soft
As the kivvers on the bed

Mother fixes in the loft
Allus, when they's company!

III

Jes' a sort o' lazin' there

S'lazy 'at you peek and peer

Through the wavin' leaves above

Like a feller 'at's in love,

And don't know it, ner do n't keer'
Ever'thing you hear and see
Got some sort o' interest-
Maybe find a bluebird's nest

Tucked up there conveenently
Fer the boys 'at's apt to be
Up some other apple-tree!
Watch the swallers skootin' past—
'Bout as peert as you could ast;
'Er the Bobwhite raise and whiz
Where some other's whistle is.

IV

Ketch a shadder down below,
And look up to find the crow;
Er a hawk away up there,
'Pearantly froze in the air!-
Hear the old hen squawk and squat,
Over every chick she's got,

Suddent-like! And she knows where

That air hawk is, well as you!

You jes' bet your life she do!

Eyes a-glitterin' like glass,
Waitin' till he makes a pass!

V

Pee-wees' singin', to express
My opinion's second class;
Yit you'll hear 'em more er less;
Sapsucks gittin' down to biz,
Weedin' out the lonesomeness;
Mr. Bluejay, full o' sass,

In them baseball clothes o' his,
Sportin' round the orchard jes'
Like he owned the premises!
Sun out there in the fields kin sizz,
But flat on yer back, I guess,
In the shade 's where glory is!
That's jes' what I 'd like to do
Stiddy fer a year er two!

VI

Plague if they ain't sompin' in
Work 'at kind o' goes agin
My convictions!-'long about
Here in June especially!—
Under some old apple-tree,

Jes' a-restin' through and through,

I could git along without

Nothin' else at all to do,

Only jes' a-wishin' you

Was a-gittin' there like me,

And June was eternity!

VII

Lay out there and try to see
Jes' how lazy you kin be!
Tumble round and souse yer head
In the clover-bloom, er pull
Yer straw hat acrost yer eyes,
And peak through it at the skies,
Thinkin' of old chums 'at's dead,
Maybe, smilin' back at you

In betwixt the beautiful

Clouds o' gold and white and blue!—

Month a man kin railly love—

June, you know, I'm talkin' of!

VIII

March ain't never nothin' new!

Aprile's altogether too

Brash fer me! and May-I jes'

'Bominate its promises,

Little hints o' sunshine and

Green around the timber-land-
A few blossoms, and a few
Chip-birds, and a sprout or two-
Drap asleep, and it turns in
'Fore daylight and snows agin!-
But when June comes-Clear my throat
With wild honey! Rench my hair
In the dew! and hold my coat!
Whoop out loud! and throw my hat!—
June wants me, and I'm to spare!
Spread them shadders anywhere,
I'll git down and waller there,
And obleeged to you at that!

James Whitcomb Riley.

RING OUT, WILD BELLS!

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,-
Ring, happy bells, across the snow;
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more;
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause,

And ancient forms of paltry strife; Ring in the nobler modes of life, With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease,
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold,
Ring out the thousand wars of old;
Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man, and free,

The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land;

Ring in the Christ that is to be.

Lord Tennyson.