His Mother throve upon the money, Ate and revived and kissed her son: But oh! when she perceived her Johnny, And understood what he had done All and only for her sake, She sobbed as if her heart must break. "HOLLOW-SOUNDING & MYSTERIOUS.” 77 "HOLLOW-SOUNDING AND MYSTERIOUS." HERE 'S no replying THER To the Wind's sighing, Telling, foretelling, Dying, undying, Dwindling and swelling, Complaining, droning, Whistling and moaning, Ever beginning, Ending, repeating, Hinting and dinning, Lagging and fleeting We've no replying Living or dying To the Wind's sighing. What are you telling, What would be teaching, O sinking, swelling, Desolate Wind-moan? Ever for ever Teaching and preaching, Never, ah never Making us wiser The earliest riser Catches no meaning, Of wisdom's treasure, While the world darkens : Living or dying, In pain, in pleasure, We've no replying To wordless flying Wind's sighing. MAIDEN MAY. M AIDEN MAY sat in her bower, In her blush rose bower in flower, Sweet of scent; Sat and dreamed away an hour, Half content, half uncontent. "Why should rose blossoms be born, Tender blossoms, on a thorn Though so sweet? Never a thorn besets the corn Scentless in its strength complete. "Why are roses all so frail, At the mercy of the gale, Yet so sweet and perfect pale, Still so sweet in life and death." Maiden May sat in her bower, Made one bristling branch the tower For her nest and young ones in it. "Gay and clear the linnet trills ; Yet the skylark only, thrills Heaven and earth When he breasts the height, and fills Height and depth with song and mirth. "Nightingales which yield to night Solitary strange delight, Reign alone: But the lark for all his height Fills no solitary throne; "While he sings, a hundred sing; Wing their flight below his wing Yet in flight; Each a lovely joyful thing To the measure of its delight. |