dead?"

Convalescent.

"He'll come anon," the holy mother said,
And kissed her death-white cheek.
"Now sleep! and while
We swiftly send your gallant page to seek,
Let holy thoughts and dreams the time beguile!"
She woke and lo! he stood 'mong those beside her bed.

She clasped his hand and whispered low. He bent
Once more to hear that voice
He must obey,
E'en though 'twixt life and death, no choice
It might him leave. She only bade him stay
Nor leave her more. The lady mother gave assent.

As flowers to sun respond with blushing hues
And grateful scents distil
Their voiceless praise;
So now as through her veins life's pulses thrill
Amid the breath of flowers and wood-choirs' lays,
She could, no more than they, her hymn of thanks refuse.

Rowena's Te Deum.

"O flowers," she sang, "sweet flowers,
Where beauty hath her throne,
Yea, smile away life's hours;
For you they'll soon be flown!
Then nursed awhile in womb of mother earth,
Ye'll rise, to taste with me, the joys of second birth!

O birds of happy wing!
With flowers' sweet incense blend
Your joyous notes and sing;
For soon your songs will end!
When summer's warmth again awakes your trills,
Ye too may know the joy which now my bosom fills!

The world seems one great heart,
Whose pulses move my soul.
I feel a feeble part
Of some mysterious whole!
Thy mighty heart, O God, 'tis thine alone,
That makes all things now breathe, responsive to mine own!"

The Lights of Home.

With sails full set to catch the western breeze,
The stout ship, Holy Cross,
The Channel ploughed;
Nor dreamt those noble hearts on board of loss;
Or that those silvered waves might prove their shroud;
As o'er her staunch bulwarks they pictured home and ease.

"What light is that which glimmers on yon height?"
The gallant captain cried,
"'Tis Ragnor's Tower,"
Sir Harold said, "where dwells my lady bride.
That light she vowed should never quit her bower.
Haste, captain, haste, I pray, and land me there this night."

"Steer straight for yonder light on Ragnor's crown!"
The captain made reply.
They set the helm;
And now with wings outstretched they swiftly fly,
Where demons will with mocking laugh o'erwhelm
And dance with fien