NTINENTAL: As you do not give the conclusion
of that 'Watching the Stag,' I propose to finish it in this wise:

'Watching my face with half-closed eyes,'
As I lean my head on the dappled stag
That stiffens beneath a windward crag.

His flanks are black with the hardened sweat,
And a film has clouded his eye of jet;
While a round, red wound that oozes still,'
Tells of his fate and my marksman's skill.

Oh! the granite crags shall no longer feel
His fleet hoofs ringing like steel on steel,
And shepherd shall never again espy
His antlers painted against the sky!

The mountain tarn, so lone and cold,
The delicate shadow no more shall hold;
The fleetness has died in each rigid limb,
And never shall dun hound follow him!

Stanch Hela blinks as she half recalls
That savage chase through the mountain-walls,
And growls as she dreams how her white teeth sank
With a thirsty grip in his shuddering flank.

Dream on, good dog! through the night so chill,
Till sunrise surges over the hill,
Till the heather glows and the peaks are gay,
And then for our mountain-home hurra!

* * * * *

We are indebted to L. H. Brook, of Cambridge for a version of

* * * * *

MARGARET'S SONG.

FROM 'FAUST.'

Meine Ruh' ist hin, My peace is gone;
Mein Herz ist schwer, My heart is sore;
Ich finde sie nimmer I find it never
Und nimmermehr. And nevermore.

Wo ich ihn nicht hab', Where him I crave,
Ist mir das Grab; To me's the grave;
Die gauze Welt The world and all
Ist mir vergaellt. Seems turned to gall.

Mein armer Kopf My wretched head
Ist mir verrueckt, Seems going mad;
Mein armer Sinn My wretched mind
Ist mir zerstueckt. Is torn and sad.

Nach ihm nur schau' ich For him I look
Zum Fenster hinaus, The casement out;
Nach ihm nur geh' ich Him only seek
Aus dem Haus. The town about.

Sein hoher Gang, His lofty step,
Sein' edle Gestalt. His noble form;
Seines Mundes Laecheln, The smile of his mouth,
Seiner Augen Gewalt. His eye's strong charm.

Und seiner Rede And in his voice
Zauberfluss, The magic bliss,
Sein Haendedruck