's darts,
For 'twas ordained for such,
Who love at random, but whose hearts
Feel no responsive touch.

If I Have Lived Before.

If I have lived before, some evidence
Should that existence to the present bind;
Some innate inkling of experience
Should still imbue and permeate the mind,
If we, progressing, pass from state to state,
Or retrograde, as turns the wheel of fate.

If I have lived before, and could my eyes
But view the scenes wherein that life was spent,
Or even for an instant recognize
The climes, conditions and environment
Beloved by them in that pre-natal span,
Though past and future both be sealed to man;

Or, if perchance, kind memory should ope'
Her floodgates, with fond recollection fraught,
'Twould then renew the dormant fires of hope,
Now smothered out by speculative thought;
'Twould then rekindle faith within a breast,
Where doubt is now the sole remaining guest.

The Darker Side.

They say that all nature is smiling and gay,
And the birds the most happy of all,
But the sparrow, pursued by the sparrowhawk,
Savors more of the wormwood and gall.

They say that all nature is smiling and gay,
But the groan may dissemble the laugh;
E'en now from the meadow is wafted the sound
Of a bovine bewailing her calf.

They say that all nature is smiling and gay,
But the moss often covers the rock;
Every animal form is beset by a foe,
For the wolf always follows the flock.

For the animal holds all inferior flesh
As its just and legitimate prey;
Every scream of the eagle a panic creates
As the weaker things scamper away.

They say that all nature is smiling and gay,
But the smiles are all needed to sweeten
The struggle we see so incessantly waged
To eat, and avoid being eaten.

And men, with their genial competitive ways
Present no decided improvements,
For their personal gain they will sacrifice all
Who may stand in the way of their movements.

The Miner.

Clink! Clink! Clink!
The song of the hammer and drill!
At the sound of the whistle so shrill and clear,
He must leave the wife and the children dear,
In his cabin upon the hill.
Clink! Clink! Clink!
But the arms that deliver the sturdy stroke,
Ere the shift is done, may be crushed or broke,
Or the life may succumb to the gas and smoke,
Which the underground caverns fill.

Clink! Clink! Clink!
The song of the hammer and drill!
As he toils in