Wind of the East,
Wind of the sunrise seas,

Wind of the clinging mists and gray, harsh rains

Blow moist and chill across the wastes of

brine,

And shut the sun out, and the moon and

stars,

And lash the boughs against the dripping

eaves,

Yet keep thou from my love.

But thou, sweet wind!

Wind of the fragrant South,

Wind from the bowers of jasmine and of

rose

Over magnolia blooms and lilied lakes And flowering forests come with dewy wings,

And stir the petals at her feet, and kiss
The low mound where she lies.

-Charles Henry Luders.

T

SEVEN TIMES ONE

HERE'S no dew left on the daisies and clover,

There's no rain left in heaven:

I've said my

over and over,

66 seven times"

Seven times one are seven.

I am old, so old I can write a letter;
My birthday lessons are done;
The lambs play always-they know no
better;

They are only one times one.

O moon! in the night I have seen you sailing

And shining so round and low;

You were bright! ah, bright! but your light is failing,

You are nothing now but a bow.

You moon, have you done something wrong in heaven

That God has hidden your face?

I hope if you have you will soon be for

given,

And shine again in your place.

O velvet bee, you're a dusty fellow,

You've powdered your legs with gold! O brave marsh mary buds, rich and yellow,

Give me your money to hold!

O columbine, open your folded wrapper,
Where two twin turtle-doves dwell!
O cuckoopint, tool me the purple clapper
That hangs in your clear green bell!

And show me your nest with the young ones in it;

I will not steal them away;

I am old! you may trust me, linnet, lin

net

I am seven times one to-day.

-Jean Ingelow.

Meets in her aspect and her eyes, Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress

Or softly lightens o'er her face,

Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwellingplace.

And on that cheek and o'er that brow
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent.

-Lord Byron.

I SAW TWO CLOUDS AT

I

MORNING

SAW two clouds at morn

ing,

Tinged by the rising sun, And in the dawn they floated

on,

And mingled into one;

I thought that morning cloud was

blessed,

It moved so sweetly to the west.

I saw two summer currents

Flow smoothly to their meeting

And join their course with silent force,
In peace each other greeting;

Calm was their course through banks of green,

While dimpling eddies played between.

Such be your gentle motion,

Till life's last pulse shall beat;

Like summer's beam and summer's stream,

Float on, in joy, to meet

A calmer sea, where storms shall cease;

A purer sky, where all is peace.

-John G. C. Brainard.