THE ROMANCE OF THE SWAN'S NEST. "Then, ay, then he shall kneel low, With the red-roan steed anear him Which shall seem to understand, Till I answer, 'Rise and go! For the world must love and fear him "Then he will arise so pale, Light to-morrow with to-day!' "Then he'll ride among the hills "Three times shall a young foot-page Swim the stream and climb the mountain, And kneel down beside my feet'Lo, my master sends this gage, Lady, for thy pity's counting! What wilt thou exchange for it?' "And the first time, I will send 2 E ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. "Then the young foot-page will run, Then my lover will ride faster, Till he kneeleth at my knee: 'I am a duke's eldest son, Thousand serfs do call me master, But, O Love, I love but thee!' He will kiss me on the mouth Then, and lead me as a lover Through the crowds that praise his deeds: And, when soul-tied by one troth, Unto him I will discover That swan's nest among the reeds." Little Ellie, with her smile Not yet ended, rose up gaily, Tied the bonnet, donned the shoe, Just to see, as she did daily, What more eggs were with the two. Pushing through the elm-tree copse, Lo, the wild swan had deserted, And a rat had gnawed the reeds! Ellie went home sad and slow. If she found the lover ever, With his red-roan steed of steeds, Sooth I know not; but I know She could never show him-never, That swan's nest among the reeds! BEAUTIFUL children of the woods and fields! Or where by hoary rocks you make your bields, And sweetly flourish on through summer weather I love ye all! ROBERT NICOLL. Beautiful flowers! to me ye fresher seem From the Almighty hand that fashioned all, Than those that flourish by a garden wall; And I can image you, as in a dream, Fair, modest maidens, nursed in hamlets small:I love ye all! Beautiful things ye are, where'er ye grow! The wild red rose-the speedwell's peeping eyesOur own bluebell the daisy, that doth rise Wherever sunbeams fall or winds do blow; And thousands more of blessed forms and dyes,I love ye all! Beautiful watchers! day and night ye wake! The evening star grows dim and fades away, And morning comes and goes, and then the day Within the arms of night its rest doth take; But ye are watchful wheresoe'er we stray,I love ye all! Beautiful objects of the wild-bee's love! The wild-bird joys your opening bloom to see, Beautiful children of the glen and dell- Ye o'er my heart have thrown a lonesome spell; And though the worldling, scorning, may deride,I love ye all! ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH. 1819-1861. THE STREAM OF LIFE. O STREAM descending to the sea, In garden plots the children play, O life descending into death, Strong purposes our mind possess, We toil and earn, we seek and learn, O end to which our currents tend, To which we flow, what do we know, A roar we hear upon thy shore, Scarce we divine a sun will shine |