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The sky is shrivelled and shred;
The hedges down by the loan
I can count them bone by bone,
The leaves are open and spread.
But I see the teeth of the land,
And hands like a dead man's hand,
And the eves of a dead man's head.
There's nothing but cinders and sand,
The rat and the mouse have fled,
And the summer's empty and cold;
Over valley and wold,
Wherever I turn my head,
There's a mildew and a mould;
The sun's going out overhead,
And I'm very old,
And Tommy's dead.

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The stairs are too steep, boys,
You may carry me to the head,
The night's dark and deep, boys,
Your mother's long in bed;
'Tis time to go to sleep, boys,
And Tommy's dead.

I'm not used to kiss, boys;
You may shake my hand instead.
All things go amiss, boys,

You may lay me where she is, boys,
And I'll rest my old head;

'Tis a poor world, this, boys, And Tommy's dead.

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[A SISTER to F. E. Smedley. Author of Nina, 1861; Twice Lost, and other Prose Tales, 1863 Linnet's Trial, 1864; A Mere Story, 1869; Other Folks' Lives, 1869; Lays and Bal lads from English History, 1858; Poems, 1868; Two Dramatic Poems, 1874. Her reputation as a poet rests chiefly upon her shorter poems.]

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Up all the shining heights he prayed

For that poor Shadow in the cold! Still came the word, "Not ours to aid; We cannot make the doors unfold.”

But that poor Shadow, still outside,
Wrung all the sacred air with pain;

And all the souls went up and cried,
Where never cry was heard in van..
No eye beheld the pitying Face,
The answer none might understand,
But dimly through the silent space
Was seen the stretching of a Hand.

ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER.
1825-1864.

[BORN at London, Oct. 30, 1825: daughter of Bryan Waller Procter (Barry Cornwall). Her first contributions to Household Words, under the name "Mary Berwick,' were in 1853, to which periodical she became a regular contributor. She also wrote for Cornhill and Grad Words. Her Poems, Legends, and Lyrics, were published in two volumes, 1858 and 1860. Died at London, Feb. 2, 1864. Her works were reissued in 1865, with an introduction by Charles Dickens.]

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A LOST CHORD. SEATED one day at the organ, I was weary and ill at ease, And my fingers wandered idly Over the noisy keys.

I do not know what I was playing,
Or what I was dreaming then,
But I struck one chord of music,
Like the sound of a great Amen.

It flooded the crimson twilight,
Like the close of an angel's psalm,
And it lay on my fevered spirit,

With a touch of infinite calm.

It quieted pain and sorrow,
Like love overcoming strife;

It seemed the harmonious echo From our discordant life.

It linked all perplexed meanings
Into one perfect peace,
And trembled away into silence,
As if it were loath to cease.

I have sought, but I seek it vainly,
That one lost chord divine,

That came from the soul of the organ,
And entered into mine.

It may be that Death's bright angel
Will speak in that chord again;
It may be that only in heaven
I shall hear that grand Amen.

DINAH MARIA MULOCK (CRAIK).

1826-1887.

[BORN at Stoke-upon-Trent, Staffordshire, in 1826. Published her first novel, The Ogilvies, in 1849, followed by numerous others, among which John Halifax, Gentleman, 1857, is the most noted. In 1864 she obtained a literary pension of 60 a year, and in 1865 was married to Mr. George Lillie Craik, a nephew of the literary historian of the same name.]

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Of babyhood's royal dignities:
Lay on my neck thy tiny hand
With love's invisible sceptre laden;
I am thine Esther to command
Till thou shalt find a queen-handmaiden,
Philip my king.

O the day when thou goest a wooing,
Philip my king!

When those beautiful lips 'gin suing,
And some gentle heart's bars undoing
Thou dost enter, love-crowned, and
there

Sittest love-glorified. Rule kindly,
Tenderly, over thy kingdom fair,
For we that love, ah! we love so blindly,
Philip my king.

Up from thy sweet mouth-up to thy
brow,

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GERALD MASSEY.

1828

[BORN at Tring, in Herefordshire, May 29, 1828. He received a scanty education at the British and National schools. At the age of fifteen he went to London, and served as an errandboy. His first volume, Poems and Chansons, was published about 1846. In 1849 he published Voices of Freedom, and Lyrics of Love. The Ballad of Babe Christabel, and other Poems, appeared in 1855; Craigerook Castle and Other Poems, in 1856; Havelock's March and Other Poems, in 1861. His latest work is A Tale of Eternity and Other Poems, 1869. In 1873 he made a lecturing tour in the United States.]

O, LAY THY HAND IN MINE, DEAR!

O, LAY thy hand in mine, dear!
We're growing old;

But Time hath brought no sign, dear,
That hearts grow cold.

'Tis long, long since our new love
Made life divine;

But age enricheth true love,
Like noble wine.

And lay thy cheek to mine, dear,

And take thy rest;

Mine arms around thee twine, dear,
And make thy nest.

A many cares are pressing

On this dear head;

But Sorrow's hands in blessing
Are surely laid.

O, lean thy life on mine, dear!
"Twill shelter thee.

Thou wert a winsome vine, dear,
On my young tree:
And so, till boughs are leafless,

And songbirds flown,
We'll twine, then lay us, griefless,
Together down.

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