Above, there gleamed the boundless sky; Far out at sea. The tiny soul then soared away, Seeking the clouds on fragile wings, Lured by the brighter, purer ray Which hope's ecstatic morning brings, Far out at sea. Away he sped with shimmering glee! Far out at sea. He dies unlike his mates, I ween; Perhaps not sooner, or worse crossed; And he hath felt, thought, known, and seen A larger life and hope-though lost ONE day I wrote her name upon the strand, his prey. Vayne man, say'd she, that doest in vayne assay A mortall thing so to immortalize; For I my selve shall like to this decay, And eke my name bee wipèd out likewise. Not so, quod I; let baser things devize To dy in dust, but thou shall live by fame: My verse your vertues rare shall éternize, And in the heavens wryte your glorious name, Where, when as death shall all the world subdew, Our love shall live, and later life renew. EDMUND SPENSER. THE POET'S DEATH. FROM "THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL," CANTO V. CALL it not vain:-they do not err, Who say tall cliff, and cavern lone, Not that, in sooth, o'er mortal urn Of those, who, else forgotten long, His place, his power, his memory die: All mourn the minstrel's harp unstrung, SIR WALTER SCOTT. THY SONGS AND MINE. SING thou my songs for me when I am dead! Armies should thunder; nor for Love's sweet sake, Though he the tenderest pilgrimage should make Where I am lying in my grassy bed. I shall be silent, with my song half sung; I shall be dumb, with half the story told; I shall be mute, leaving the half unsaid. Take thou the harp ere it be yet unstrung— Wake thou the lyre ere yet its chords be cold Sing thou my songs, and thine, when I am dead! JULIA C. R. DORR. THE SHARING OF THE EARTH. "TAKE the world," cried the God from his heaven To men-"I proclaim you its heirs ; To divide it amongst you 't is given: Each takes for himself as it pleases, Old and young have alike their desire: The harvest the husbandman seizes; Through the wood and the chase sweeps the squire. The merchant his warehouse is locking; All too late, when the sharing was over, Nothing left can the laggard discover, "Woe is me! is there nothing remaining "In the land of thy dreams if abiding," Quoth the god, "Can'st thou murmur at me? Where wert thou when the earth was dividing?" "I was," said the poet, "by thee! "Mine eye by thy glory was captured, Pardon him whom thy world so enraptured "Alas," said the god, "earth is given! Field, forest, and market, and all! What say you to quarters in heaven? We'll admit you whenever you call!” From the German of J. C. FRIEDRICH VON SCHILLER. THE IMMORTALITY OF GENIUS, ORPHEUS, 't is said, the Thracian lyre-strings sweep ing, Stayed the swift stream and soothed the savage brute; Citharon's rocks, to Thebes spontaneous leaping, |