reads, "Poe was great in his genius; unhappy in his life; wretched in his death; but in his fame he is immortal." "Had you lived a generation later, honor, wealth, applause, success in Europe and at home, would all have been yours." - ANDREW LANG in his Letters to Dead Authors.

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW.

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW.

POET, TRANSLATOR, ROMANCER, ESSAYIST.

EXTRACTS.

THEN pealed the bells more loud and deep,
"God is not dead nor does he sleep!

The Wrong shall fail,

The Right prevail,

With peace on earth, good will to men!"

CHRISTMAS BELLS.

AND the night shall be filled with music;

And the cares that infest the day
Shall fold their tents like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.

IN the elder days of Art,

Builders wrought with greatest care

Each minute and unseen part,

For the gods see everywhere.

THERE is no flock, however watched and tended,

But one dead lamb is there!

There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended,

But has one vacant chair.

RESIGNATION.

THERE is a Reaper, whose name is Death,
And, with his sickle keen,

He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,
And the flowers that grow between.

THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS.

THE lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.

EVANGELINE.

WHEN she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of ex

quisite music.

As unto the bow the cord is,

So unto the man is woman;

Though she bends him, she obeys him,
Though she draws him, yet she follows,

Useless each without the other.

IBID.

HIAWATHA.