Oh, Daffy-down-dilly, so brave and so true!
I wish all were like you:

So ready for duty in all sorts of weather,
And showing forth courage and beauty together.

* 24*

A NIGHT WITH A WOLF.

Little one, come to my knee;

Hark how the rain is pouring

Over the roof, in the pitch-black night,
And the winds in the woods are roaring.

Hush, my darling, and listen,

Then pay for the story with kisses:
Father was lost in the pitch-black night,

In just such a storm as this is.

High up on the lonely mountains,

Where the wild men watched and waited, Wolves in the forest, and bears in the bush, And I on my path belated.

The rain and the night together

Came down, and the wind came after,
Bending the props of the pine-tree roof,
And snapping many a rafter.

I crept along in the darkness,

Stunned, and bruised, and blinded-
Crept to a fir with thick-set boughs,
And a sheltering rock behind it.

There, from the blowing and raining,
Crouching, I sought to hide me :
Something rustled, two green eyes shone,
And a wolf lay down beside me.

Little one, be not frightened:
I and the wolf together,

Side by side, through the long, long night,
Hid from the awful weather.

His wet fur pressed against me ;
Each of us warmed the other;
Each of us felt, in the stormy dark,
That beast and man were brother.

And when the falling forest

No longer crashed in warning,
Each of us went from our hiding-place
Forth in the wild, wet morning.

Darling, kiss me in payment:
Hark, how the wind is roaring;
Father's house is a better place
When the stormy rain is pouring.

Bayard Taylor.

*25*

GOLDEN-TRESSED ADELAIDE.

Sing, I pray, a little song,
Mother dear!

Neither sad nor very long:
It is for a little maid,

Golden-tressed Adelaide!

Therefore let it suit a merry, merry ear,
Mother dear?

Let it be a merry strain,

Mother dear!

Shunning e'en the thought of pain.

For our gentle child will weep,

If the theme be dark and deep;

And we will not draw a single, single tear,
Mother dear!

Childhood should be all divine,
Mother dear!

And like an endless summer shine;
Gay as Edward's shouts and cries,
Bright as Agnes' azure eyes :

Therefore bid thy song be merry;-dost thou hear,
Mother dear?

* 26 *

Barry Cornwall.

3

MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS.

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.
2 Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birthplace of valor, the country of worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,

The hills of the Highlands forever I love.
Farewell to the mountains high covered with snow;
Farewell to the straths and green valley below;
Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods;
Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.

Robert Burns.

*27*

THE WIND AND THE MOON.

Said the Wind to the Moon, "I will blow you out.

You stare

In the air

Like a ghost in a chair,

Always looking what I am about.

I hate to be watched; I will blow you out."

The wind blew hard, and out went the Moon.

So, deep
On a heap

Of cloudless sleep,

Down lay the Wind, and slumbered soon-
Muttering low-" I've done for that Moon."

He turned in his bed; she was there again!
On high

In the sky

With her ghost eye,

The Moon shone white and alive and plain;
Said the Wind-" I will blow you out again."

The Wind blew hard, and the Moon grew dim. "With my sledge

And my wedge

I have knocked off her edge.

If only I blow right fierce and grim

The creature will soon be dimmer than dim."

He blew, and he blew, and she thinned to a thread.

"One puff
More's enough

To blow her to snuff!

One good puff more where the last was bred,

And glimmer, glum will go the thread."

He blew a great blast and the thread was gone;

In the air
Nowhere

Was a moonbeam bare;

Far off and harmless the sky-stars shone;
Sure and certain the Moon was gone!

The Wind took to his revels once more
On down,

In town,

Like a merry-mad clown,

He leaped and halloed with whistle and roar. "What's that?"

The glimmering thread one more

He flew in a rage—he danced and blew ;
But in vain

Was the pain

Of his bursting brain;

For still broader the moon-scrap grew,

The broader he swelled his big cheeks, and blew.
Slowly she grew-till she filled the night
And shone

On her throne

In the sky alone,

A matchless, wonderful, silvery light,
Radiant and lovely, the queen of the night.

Said the Wind: "What a marvel of power am I!
With my breath,

Good faith,

I blew her to death

First blew her away right out of the sky-
Then blew her in; what strength am I !"

But the Moon knew nothing about the affair ;

For high

In the sky

With her one white eye,

Motionless miles above the air,

She had never heard the great Wind blare.

George MacDonald.