I envy not the beast that takes

His license in the fields of time,

Unfettered by the sense of crime,
To whom a conscience never wakes ;

Nor, what may count itself as blest,

The heart that never plighted troth,

But stagnates in the weeds of sloth ; Nor any want-begotten rest.

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.

SONG FROM “Maud."

a

Come into the garden, Maud,

For the black bat, night, has flown ; Come into the garden, Maud,

I am here at the gate alone; And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad,

And the musk of the roses blown. For a breeze of morning moves,

And the planet of Love is on high, Beginning to faint in the light that she loves

On a bed of daffodil sky,
To faint in the light of the sun she loves,

To faint in his light, and to die.
All night have the roses heard

The flute, violin, bassoon;
All night has the casement jessamine stirred

To the dancers dancing in tune;
Till a silence fell with the waking bird,

And a hush with the setting moon.
I said to the lily, “There is but one

With whom she has heart to be gay. When will the dancers leave her alone?

She is weary of dance and play." Now half to the setting moon are gone,

“Well,” cried he, “Emperor, by God's grace

We've got you Ratisbon !
The Marshal's in the market-place,

And you'll be there anon
To see your flag-bird flap his vans

Where I, to heart's desire,
Perched him!” The chief's eye flashed; his plans

Soared up again like fire.
The chief's eye flashed; but presently

Softened itself, as sheathes
A film the mother-eagle's eye

When her bruised eaglet breathes ;
“You're wounded!” "Nay,” the soldier's pride

Touched to the quick, he said :
“I'm killed, sire !” And his chief beside,

Smiling the boy fell dead.

a

The Lost LEADER.
Just for a handful of silver he left us,

Just for a ribbon to stick in his coat-
Found the one gift of which fortune bereft us,

Lost all the others, she lets us devote;
They, with the gold to give, doled him out silver,

So much was theirs who so little allowed :
How all our copper had gone for his service!

Rags—were they purple, his heart had been proud !
We that had loved him so, followed him, honored him,

Lived in his mild and magnificent eye,
Learned his great language, caught his clear accents,

Made him our pattern to live and to die !
Shakspere was of us, Milton was for us,

Burns, Shelley were with us—they watch from their graves ! He alone breaks from the van and the freemen,

He alone sinks to the rear and the slaves !
We shall march prospering—not through his presence ;

Songs may inspirit us—not from his lyre ;
Deeds will be done, while he boasts his quiescence,

Still bidding crouch whom the rest bade aspire:
Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more,

One task more declined, one more footpath untrod, One more devil's triumph and sorrow for angels,

One wrong more to man, one more insult to God! Life's night begins : let him never come back to us!

There would be doubt, hesitation, and pain,
Forced praise on our part—the glimmer of twilight,

Never glad confident morning again!
Best fight on well, for we taught him-strike gallantly,

Menace our heart ere we master his own ;
Then let him receive the new knowledge and wait us,

Pardoned in heaven, the first by the throne !

WORK AND Worth.

(From “ Rabbi Ben Ezra."]
Not on the vulgar mass
Called “work” must sentence pass,

Things done, that took the eye and had the price ;
O'er which, from level stand,
The low world laid its hand,

Found straightway to its mind, could value in a trice:
But all, the world's coarse thumb
And finger failed to plumb,

So passed in making up the main account ;
All instincts immature,
All purposes unsure,
That weighed not as his work, yet swelled the man's

amount :
Thoughts hardly to be packed
Into a narrow act,

Fancies that broke through language and escaped :
All I could never be,
All men ignored in me,

This I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher shaped.

INDEX.

Addison, Joseph, 127, 146, 152, 155, Chaucer, Geoffrey, 10, 12, 22, 23, 24, 26,
157 ff., 233, 237, 279.

28 f., 36, 37, 38, 41, 46, 50, 55, 56, 57,
Akenside, Mark, 164.

79, 81, 146, 150, 166, 192, 221, 255.
Alfred, King, 10, 15, 50.

Cheke, John, 51.
Anselm, 11.

Chesterfieid, Lord, 154.
Arnold, Matthew, 19, 23, 196.

Churchill, John, 153.
Arnold, Thomas, 199.

Coleridge, S. T., 98, 107, 115, 177, 187,
Arthur, King, 15, 47.

190, 191, 196, 197 f., 201, 202, 205,
Ascham, Roger, 43, 51, 52, 56, 118.

215, 239, 295.
Austen, Jane, 209.

Colet, John, 51, 53.
Bacon, Francis, 71, 75 f., 90, 113, 129, Collier, Jeremy, 144.
237, 264.

Collins, William, 164, 168, 169, 170, 173,
Beattie, James, 165, 167, 182.

178, 205.
Beaumont, Francis, 78, 85, 91, 100, Congreve, William, 142, 154.
105.1., 112, 144, 267.

Constable, Henry, 78.
Behn, Mrs. Aphra, 143.

Coverdale, Miles, 52.
Boswell, James, 170, 172, 173.

Cowley, Abraham, 119, 124, 137, 146,
Bourchier, John, 42.

147, 150.
Bronté, Charlotte, 225, 232.

Cowper, William, 80, 169, 179 ff., 184,
Brooke, Arthur, 78.

195, 196, 288.
Brougham, Henry, 188.

Crabbe, George, 195, 196.
Browne, Thomas, 75, 113, 114, 116, Crashaw, Richard, 119, 123.
150, 273.

Daniel, Samuel, 78, 80.
Browne, William, 78.

Davenant, William, 137, 140, 145.
Browning, Elizabeth Barrett, 182. Defoe, Daniel, 160, 173.
Browning, Robert, 218, 244, 248 ff., 320. Denham, John, 147.
Bunyan, John, 25, 62, 150 ff.

De Quincey, Thomas, 115, 187, 2010.,
Burke, Edmund, 171, 179, 189, 285.

239.
Burns, Robert, 45, 179, 182 ff., 195, 206. Dickens, Charles, 203, 226 $1., 231, 233,
220, 240, 290.

235, 237, 305.
Burton, Robert, 113, 205.

Donne, John, 119. 1., 145, 149.
Butler, Samuel, 139.

Drayton, Michael, 69, 78, 80, 118.
Byron, George, 79, 163, 181, 187, 193, Drummond, William, 78.