Words.

K

IND words, that fall as gently on the ear

As summer showers on the parchèd leaves :

Fond words of love, to maiden hearts as dear

As words of comfort to a soul that grieves.

Words, soft as moonlight shadows on the snow,
Or starbeams mirrored in a silent stream:
Words, sweet as echoes of long time ago
In half-remembered whispers of a dream.

Words, gentle as the murmuring of a rill,
And soothing as the distant song of birds :-
All these I give thee, but remember still,
With all their sweetness, they are only words.

EXETER COLL., OXFORD.

G. B. R.

Sweeter too the thoughts that twine
Hearts and hands, to build a shrine
Worthy for thee, Love divine,

At stilly eve.

Sweeter memories of home,

Cherished still where'er we roam,

In the lonely twilight come,

At stilly eve.

EXETER COLLEGE, OXFORD.

W. J. S.

Song of a Det.

CHE is weaving a net for me,

And its meshes are strong and fair:

They are knit from a lash of her laughing eye,
And a tress of her silken hair.

But why should I care for these?
They are woven in vain for me,

For

my heart is as light as the summer breeze, And as cold as the winter sea.

She is weaving a net for me,

With the charm of a plaintive song,

And the charm is there, when the tones have died,

But it never shall hold me long:

For why should such accents move?
And what are her tones to me?

Though her voice be as sweet as a whisper of love,
I know that my heart is free.

VOL. X.

M

She is weaving a net for me,

And they say it must bind me for ever,
And the thread of my life is entwined there,
That nothing but death can sever.
Oh, it cannot be that I love!-

Yet her smile is as dear to me
As the woodland air to a cagèd dove,
Or the golden sun to a bee.

She is weaving a net for me;

But I cling to its meshes now,

With the fondest love that my bosom knows,
And the faith of a sacred vow.

Oh, away with the empty sound!
Let Freedom perish for me,-

It is life and love to be captive bound,

It would be death to be free!

EXETER COLL., OXFORD.

G. B. R.