And the gate for ever swinging, made no grating, no harsh ringing,

Melodious as the singing of one that we adore;

And the chorus still was swelling, grand beyond a mortal's telling,

While the vision faded from me with the glad word— "Evermore!"

THE CHAPEL BY THE SHORE.

Taken from the Dublin University Magazine.

attached to it.

By the shore a plot of ground

Clips a ruin'd chapel round,
Buttress'd with a grassy mound,

Where day and night and day go by,
And bring no touch of human sound.

Washing of the lonely seas,
Shaking of the guardian trees,
Piping of the salted breeze,

Day and night and day go by
To the ceaseless tune of these.

Or when as wind and waters keep
A hush more dead than any sleep,
Still morns to stiller evenings creep,

And day and night and day go by—
Here the stillness is most deep.

And the ruins lapsed again
Into Nature's wide domain,
Sow themselves with seed and grain
As day and night and day go by,
And hoard June's sun and April's rain.

Here fresh funeral tears were shed
And now the graves are also dead,
And suckers from the ash-tree spread
As day and night and day go by,
And stars move calmly over head.

Brilliants.

A LADY IN DEJECTION PLAYING ON THE PIANO.

Inspired and warbling, rapt from things around,
She look'd the very Muse of magic sound,
Painting in sound the forms of joy and woe
Until the mind's eye saw them melt and glow.
Her closing strain composed and calm she play'd
And sang no words to give its pathos aid,
But grief seem'd lingering in its lengthen'd swell,
And like so many tears, the trickling touches fell.
CAMPBELL.

NUTTING.

I saw the sparkling foam,
And with my cheek on one of those green stones
That, fleeced with moss, beneath the shady trees,
Lay round me, scatter'd like a flock of sheep,
I heard the murmur and the murmuring sound,
In that sweet mood when pleasure loves to pay
Tribute to ease; and, of its joy secure,
The heart luxuriates with indifferent things,
Wasting its kindliness on stocks and stones,
And on the vacant air. Then up I rose,

And dragg'd to earth both branch and bough, with crash
And merciless ravage; and the shady nook
Of hazels, and the green and mossy bower,
Deform'd and sullied, patiently gave up
Their quiet being: and, unless I now
Confound my present feelings with the past,
Even then, when from the bower I turn'd away
Exulting, rich beyond the wealth of kings,
I felt a sense of pain when I beheld

The silent trees and the intruding sky.

YOUTH AND AGE.

WORDSWORTH.

Like some sweet sculpture draped from head to foot,
And push'd by rude hands from its pedestal,
All her fair length upon the ground she lay :
And at her head a follower of the camp,
A charr'd and wrinkled piece of womanhood,
Sat watching like a watcher by the dead.

TENNYSON.

FAME.

Fame, the great ill, from small beginnings grows-
Swift from the first, and every moment brings
New vigour to her flights, new pinions to her wings.
Soon grows the pigmy to gigantic size;

Her feet on earth, her forehead in the skies.

NATURE'S TEACHINGS.

DRYDEN.

To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.

FOREST SOLEMNITY.

Intent she look'd upon that cloud,

Then turn'd aside, amid the shade, Into a forest-path o'erbrow'd

WORDSWORTH.

By boughs that frowning arches made.
The green lights of the distant glade,

Glanced through the trunks in their dark crowd,
But soon the sombre foliage wound
A soft and general gloom around,
And in the forest depths she heard,
With heart that flutter'd like a bird,

A woodman's measured blows resound.

HORNE.

MORNING.

The cottage-curs at early pilgrim bark;
Crown'd with her pail the tripping milkmaid sings;
The whistling ploughman stalks afield; and hark!
Down the rough slope the ponderous waggon rings;
Through rustling corn the hare astonish'd springs;
Slow tolls the village clock the drowsy hour;
The partridge bursts away on whirring wings;
Deep mourns the turtle in sequester'd bower,
And shrill lark carols clear from her ærial tour.
BEATTIE.

LOVE.

I hold it true, whate'er befall;

I feel it when I sorrow most;
"Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

TENNYSON.

SOUL OF DIVINE ORIGIN.

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting;
The soul that rises with us our life's star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar :
Not in entire forgetfulness,

And not in utter nakedness,

But trailing clouds of glory do we come,
From God who was our home:
Heaven lies about us in our infancy!
Shades of the prison-house begin to close
Upon the growing boy,

But he beholds the light, and whence it flows,
He sees it in his joy;

The youth, who daily farther from the East
Must travel, still is Nature's priest,
And by the vision splendid

Is on his way attended;

At length the man perceives it die away,
And fade into the light of common day,

INSIPID FLATTERY.

WORDSWORTH.

This barren verbiage, current among men,
Light coin, the tinsel clink of compliment.

WILD FLOWERS.

TENNYSON.

Wearied infants on earth's gentle breast-
In every nook the little field-flowers slept.
SIR E. B. LYTTON.

SYMPATHY.

The heart that bleeds

From any stroke of fate, or human wrongs,
Loves to disclose itself, that listening pity
May drop a healing tear upon the wound.

MASON.

IDLERS.

An idler is a watch that wants both hands,
As useless if it goes, as when it stands.

COWPER.

BEAUTIES OF THE SACRED POETS.

Just Published, in Foolscap 8vo., Part 1, Price 6d.; to be completed in Twelve Monthly Parts.

A

CYCLOPEDIA OF SACRED

POETICAL QUOTATIONS; Consisting of Choice Passages from the Sacred Poetry of All Ages and Countries.-Illustrated by Striking Passages from Scripture, and forming altogether a complete Book of Devotional Poetry. Edited by H. G. ADAMS.

BEAUTIES OF ALL THE POETS.

In Foolscap 8vo., Price 6s. 6d. cloth, or 7s. 6d. elegantly gilt, with Vignette Portraits of Chaucer, Shakspere, Dryden, Pope, Moore, and Byron.

A

CYCLOPEDIA OF POETICAL QUOTATIONS; Consisting of Choice Passages from the Poets of Every Age and Country. Edited by H. G. ADAMS.

London: GROOMBRIDGE AND SONS, 5, Paternoster Row.

HE CRITIC, LONDON LITERARY

of each Month, contains a complete collection of the Sayings and Doings of Literature and Art throughout the world, and Notices, with interesting extracts, from all the new books. Price 6d., stamped 7d. THE CRITIC has been published for nine years, and its present circulation is upwards of Seven Thousand.

Office: 29, Essex Street, Strand.

Preparing for Publication,

THE YOUNG NATURALIST'S LIBRARY.

Edited by H. G. ADAMS.

Under this title it is purposed to issue a series of carefully-written and profusely-illustrated volumes for youth, in which the various objects and operations of nature will be described and depicted.

Subject of Vol. I., to be published shortly:-NESTS AND EGGS OF FAMILIAR BRITISH BIRDS, with Eight Plates, containing about Fifty Figures of Eggs, drawn and coloured from nature. The price of the volumes, to be issued occasionally, will be-in illuminated covers, One Shilling; emblematically bound and gilt, One Shilling and Sixpence.

London: GROOMBRIDGE & SONS.