VI.

Sweet, sweet, sweet, O Pan!

Piercing sweet by the river!
Blinding sweet, O great god Pan!
The sun on the hill forgot to die,

And the lilies revived, and the dragon-fly
Came back to dream on the river.

VII.

Yet half a beast is the great god Pan,
To laugh as he sits by the river,
Making a poet out of a man:

The true gods sigh for the cost and pain,-
For the reed which grows nevermore again
As a reed with the reeds in the river.

Footsteps on the Other Side.
Sitting in my humble doorway,
Gazing out into the night,
Listening to the stormy tumult

Mrs. Browning.

With a kind of sad delight—
Wait I for the loved who comes not,
One whose step I long to hear;
One who, though he lingers from me,
Still is dearest of the dear.
Soft! he comes—now heart be quick -

Leaping in triumphant pride!

Oh! it is a stranger footstep,

Gone by on the other side.

All the night seems filled with weeping,
Winds are wailing mournfully;
And the rain-tears together
Journey to the restless sea.

I can fancy, sea, your murmur,
As they with your waters flow,
Like the griefs of single beings,
Making up a nation's woe!

Branches, bid your guests be silent;
Hush a moment, fretful rain;
Breeze, stop sighing — let me listen,
God grant not again in vain!
In my cheek the blood is rosy,
Like the blushes of a bride.
Joy! alas! a stranger footstep
Goes on by the other side.

Ah! how many wait forever

For the steps that do not come!
Wait until the pitying angels

Bear them to a peaceful home!
Many in the still of midnight

In the streets have lain and died,
While the sound of human footsteps
Went by on the other side.

Death of Little Nell.

From "The Old Curiosity Shop."

By little and little, the old man drew back towards the inner chamber, while these words were spoken. He pointed there, as he replied, with trembling lips,

"You plot among you to wean my heart from her. You will never do that- never while I have life. I have no relative or friend but her―I never had - I never will have. She is all in all to me. It is too late to part us now."

Waving them off with his hand, and calling softly to her as he went, he stole into the room. They who were left behind drew close together, and after a few whispered words, — not unbroken by emotion, or easily uttered, followed him. They moved so gently, that their footsteps made no noise, but there were sobs

from among the group, and sounds of grief and mourning.

For she was dead. There, upon her little bed, she lay at rest. The solemn stillness was no marvel now.

She was dead. No sleep so beautiful and calm, so free from trace of pain, so fair to look upon. She seemed a creature fresh from the hand of God, and waiting for the breath of life; not one who had lived and suffered death..

Her couch was dressed with, here and there, some winter berries and green leaves, gathered in a spot she had been used to favor. “When I die, put near me something that has loved the light, and had the sky above it always." These were her words.

She was dead. Dear, gentle, patient, noble Nell was dead. Her little birda poor slight thing the pressure of a finger would have crushed - was stirring ninibly in its cage; and the strong heart of its child-mistress was mute and motionless forever.

Where were the traces of her early cares, her sufferings and fatigues? All gone. This was the true death before their weeping eyes. Sorrow was dead indeed in her, but peace and perfect happiness were born; imaged in her tranquil beauty and profound

repose.

And still her former self lay there, unaltered in this change. Yes. The old fireside had smiled on that same sweet face; it had passed like a dream through haunts of misery and care; at the door of the poor schoolmaster on the summer evening, before the furnace fire upon the cold, wet night, at the still, dying boy, there had been the same mild, lovely look. So shall we know the angels in their majesty, after death.

The old man held one languid arm in his, and kept the small hand tight folded to his breast, for warmth. It was the hand she had stretched out to him with her last smile - the hand that had led him on through all their wanderings. Ever and anon he passed it to his lips; then hugged it to his breast again, murmuring that it was warmer now; and as he said it, he looked, in agony, to those who stood around, as if imploring them to help her.

She was dead and past all help, or need of it. The ancient rooms she had seemed to fill with life, even while her own was ebbing fast — the garden she had tended—the eyes she had gladdened — the noiseless haunts of many a thoughtless hour- the paths she had trodden as if it were but yesterday—could know her no more. "It is not," said the schoolmaster, as he bent down to kiss her on her cheek, and give his tears free vent "it is not in this world that Heaven's justice ends. Think what it is compared with the world to which her young spirit has winged its early flight, and say, if one deliberate wish expressed in solemn terms above this bed could call her back to life, which of us would utter it!"

Dickens.

Auction Extraordinary.

I dreamed a dream in the midst of my slumbers,
And as fast as I dreamed it, it came into numbers;
My thoughts ran along in such beautiful meter,
I'm sure I ne'er saw any poetry sweeter:
It seemed that a law had been recently made,
That a tax on old bachelors' pates should be laid;
And in order to make them all willing to marry,
The tax was as large as a man could well carry,
The bachelors grumbled and said 'twas no use
'Twas horrid injustice and horrid abuse,

And declared that to save their own heart's blood from spilling

Of such a vile tax they would not pay a shilling.
But the rulers determined them still to pursue,
So they set all the old bachelors up at vendue:
A crier was sent through the town to and fro,
To rattle his bell and a trumpet to blow,
And to call out to all he might meet in his way,
"Ho! forty old bachelors sold here to day:
And presently all the old maids in the town,
Each in her very best bonnet and gown,
From thirty to sixty, fair, plain, red, and pale,
Of every description, all flocked to the sale.
The auctioneer then in his labor began,

And called out aloud, as he held up a man,
"How much for a bachelor? who wants to buy?
In a twink, every maiden responded, “I— I.”
In short, at a highly extravagant price,

The bachelors all were sold off in a trice:

And forty old maidens, some younger, some older,

Each lugged an old bachelor home on her shoulder.

The Coquette.

A PORTRAIT.

"You're clever at drawing, I own,"

Said my beautiful cousin Lisette,

As we sat by the window alone,

Lucretia Davidson.

"But say, can you paint a Coquette?"

She's painted already," quoth I;

"Nay, nay!" said the laughing Lisette, "Now none of your joking,- but try

And paint me a thorough Coquette."

"Well, cousin," at once I began In the ear of the eager Lisette,

"I'll paint you as well as I can That wonderful thing a Coquette.

She wears a most beautiful face

(Of course! - said the pretty Lisette), And is n't deficient in grace,

Or else she were not a Coquette.

And then she is daintily made

(A smile from the dainty Lisette)

By people expert in the trade

Of forming a proper Coquette.

She's the winningest ways with the beaux
(Go on!- said the winning Lisette),
But there is n't a man of them knows
The mind of the fickle Coquette!

She knows how to weep and to sigh
(A sigh from the tender Lisette),
But her weeping is all in my eye,—
Not that of the cunning Coquette!

In short, she's a creature of art