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Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times ;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes, But ring the fuller minstrel in. Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite ;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold ;
Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace. Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land, Ring in the Christ that is to be.
334 Come into the garden, Maud,
For the black bat, night, has flown,
I am here at the gate alone ;
And the musk of the roses blown.
a 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 his light, and to die.
The flute, violin, bassoon ;
To the dancers dancing in tune;
And a hush with the setting moon.
I said to the lily, 'There is but one
20 When will the dancers leave her alone ?
She is weary of dance and play.'
And half to the rising day ;
25 The last wheel echoes away. I said to the rose, 'The brief night goes
In babble and revel and wine.
30 But mine, but mine,' so I sware to the rose,
For ever and ever, mine.'
As the music clash'd in the hall ;
35 For I heard your rivulet fall From the lake to the meadow and on to the wood,
Our wood, that is dearer than all ; From the meadow your walks have left so sweet
That whenever a March-wind sighs
In violets blue as your eyes,
And the valleys of Paradise.
One long milk-bloom on the tree ;
As the pimpernel dozed on the lea ;
Knowing your promise to me; The lilies and roses were all awake,
They sigh'd for the dawn and thee. Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls,
Come hither, the dances are done,
In gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls,
Queen lily and rose in one ; Shine out, little head, sunning over with curls,
To the flowers, and be their sun. There has fallen a splendid tear
From the passion-flower at the gate.
She is coming, my life, my fate :
And the white rose weeps, . She is late ;
And the lily whispers, “I wait.'
Were it ever so airy a tread,
Were it earth in an earthy bed ;
Had I lain for a century dead ;
In Love, if Love be Love, if Love be ours, Faith and unfaith can ne'er be equal powers : Unfaith in aught is want of faith in all.
It is the little rift within the lute,
The little rift within the lover's lute,
It is not worth the keeping : let it go : But shall it ? answer, darling, answer, no. And trust me not at all or all in all.
THE PRIVATE OF THE BUFFS
Some Sikhs and a private of the Buffs having remained behind with the grog carts, fell into the hands of the Chinese. On the next morning they were
. brought before the authorities, and commanded to perform the Kotow. The Sikhs obeyed ; but. Moyse, the English soldier, declaring that he would not prostrate himself before any Chinaman alive, was immediately knocked upon the head, and his body thrown on a dunghill.-The Times.
Last night, among his fellow roughs,
He jested, quaffed, and swore,
Who never looked before.
He stands in Elgin's place,
And type of all her race.
Poor, reckless, rude, low-born, untaught,
Bewildered, and alone,
He yet can call his own.
Bring cord, or axe, or flame :
Shall England come to shame.
Far Kentish hop-fields round him seem'd,
Like dreams, to come and go ;
One sheet of living snow;
In grey soft eddyings hung :
Doom'd by himself so young ?
Yes, honour calls with strength like steel
He put the vision by.
An English lad must die.
With knee to man unbent, Unfaltering on its dreadful brink,
To his red grave he went.
Vain, mightiest fleets of iron framed ;
Vain, those all-shattering guns ;
The strong heart of her sons.
A man of mean estate,
SIR F. H. DOYLE.
A CHRISTMAS HYMN
It was the calm and silent night!
Seven hundred years and fifty-three Had Rome been growing up to might,
And now was Queen of land and sea !
Peace brooded o'er the hushed domain ;
Centuries ago !
'Twas in the calm and silent night!
The senator of haughty Rome Impatient urged his chariot's flight
From lordly revel rolling home !