WORDSWORTH.

Not blither is the mountain roe;

With many a wanton stroke
Her feet disperse the powdery snow
That rises up like smoke.

The storm came on before its time:
She wandered up and down;
And many a hill did Lucy climb:
But never reached the town.

The wretched parents all that night
Went shouting far and wide;

But there was neither sound nor sight
To serve them for a guide.

At day-break on a hill they stood

That overlooked the moor;

And thence they saw the bridge of wood,
A furlong from their door.

They wept and turning homeward, cried, "In heaven we all shall meet;"

- When in the snow the mother spied The print of Lucy's feet.

Then downwards from the steep hill's edge
They tracked the footmarks small;

And through the broken hawthorn hedge,
And by the long stone wall;

And then an open field they crossed :
The marks were still the same;
They tracked them on, nor ever lost;
And to the bridge they came.

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They followed from the snowy bank
Those footmarks, one by one,
Into the middle of the plank;
And further there were none!

Yet some maintain that to this day
She is a living child;

That you may see sweet Lucy Gray
Upon the lonesome wild;

O'er rough and smooth she trips along,
And never looks behind;

And sings a solitary song,
That whistles in the wind.

WORDSWORTH.

Song.-On May Morning.

Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger,
Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her
The flowery May, who from her green lap throws
The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose.

Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire
Mirth and youth and warm desire ;
Woods and groves are of thy dressing,

Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing.
Thus we salute thee with our early song,
And welcome thee, and wish thee long.

MILTON.

Although thy breath be rude.

Heigh ho! sing heigh ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly :
Then, heigh ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
That dost not bite so nigh

As benefits forgot:

Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp

As friend remembered not.

Heigh ho! sing heigh ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly :
Then, heigh ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.

SHAKSPEARE.-[From "As you like it."]

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The Romance of the Swan's Nest.

"So the dreams depart,

So the fading phantoms flee,
And the sharp reality

Now must act its part."

I.

WESTWOOD'S "Beads from a Rosary."

Little Ellie sits alone 'Mid the beeches of a meadow,

By a stream-side on the grass: And the trees are showering down Doubles of their leaves in shadow, On her shining hair and face.

II.

She has thrown her bonnet by;
And her feet she has been dipping
In the shallow water's flow-
Now she holds them nakedly
In her hands, all sleek and dripping,
While she rocketh to and fro.

III.

Little Ellie sits alone,

And the smile, she softly useth,

Fills the silence like a speech;
While she thinks what shall be done,-

And the sweetest pleasure, chooseth,
For her future within reach.

ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING.

IV.

Little Ellie, in her smile

Chooseth . . "I will have a lover,
Riding on a steed of steeds!

He shall love me without guile;
And to him I will discover

That swan's nest among the reeds.

V.

'And the steed shall be red-roan, And the lover shall be noble,

With an eye that takes the breath,—
And the lute he plays upon

Shall strike ladies into trouble,

As his sword strikes men to death.

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VI.

"And the steed, it shall be shod All in silver, housed in azure,

And the mane shall swim the wind;
And the hoofs, along the sod,
Shall flash onward and keep measure,
Till the shepherds look behind.

VII.

"But my lover will not prize All the glory that he rides in ;

When he gazes in my face.
He will say, 'O love, thine eyes
Build the shrine my soul abides in;
And I kneel here for thy grace.'

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