die we must.

_Unknown._

[Footnote 1: 1. Young; 2. Dr. Johnson; 3. Pope; 4. Prior; 5. Sewell;
6. Spenser; 7. Daniell; 8. Sir Walter Raleigh; 9. Longfellow;
10. Southwell; 11. Congreve; 12. Churchill; 13. Rochester; 14.
Armstrong; 15. Milton; 16. Bailey; 17. Trench; 18. Somerville;
19. Thomson; 20. Byron; 21. Smollett; 22. Crabbe; 23. Massinger;
24. Cowley; 25. Beattie; 26. Cowper; 27. Sir Walter
Davenant; 28. Gray; 29. Willis; 30. Addison; 31. Dryden; 32.
Francis Quarles; 33. Watkins; 34. Herrick; 35. William Mason;
36. Hill; 37. Dana; 38. Shakespeare.]

ODE TO THE HUMAN HEART

Blind Thamyris, and blind Maeonides,
Pursue the triumph and partake the gale!
Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees,
To point a moral or adorn a tale.

Full many a gem of purest ray serene,
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears,
Like angels' visits, few and far between,
Deck the long vista of departed years.

Man never is, but always to be bless'd;
The tenth transmitter of a foolish face,
Like Aaron's serpent, swallows up the rest,
And makes a sunshine in the shady place.

For man the hermit sigh'd, till woman smiled,
To waft a feather or to drown a fly,
(In wit a man, simplicity a child,)
With silent finger pointing to the sky.

But fools rush in where angels fear to tread
Far out amid the melancholy main;
As when a vulture on Imaus bred,
Dies of a rose in aromatic pain.

_Laman Blanchard._

A STRIKE AMONG THE POETS

In his chamber, weak and dying,
While the Norman Baron lay,
Loud, without, his men were crying,
"Shorter hours and better pay."

Know you why the ploughman, fretting,
Homeward plods his weary way
Ere his time? He's after getting
Shorter hours and better pay.

See! the _Hesperus_ is swinging
Idle in the wintry bay,
And the skipper's daughter's singing,
"Shorter hours and better pay."

Where's the minstrel boy? I've found him
Joining in the labour fray
With his placards slung around him,
"Shorter hours and better pay."

Oh, young Lochinvar is coming;
Though his hair is getting grey,
Yet I'm glad to hear him humming,
"Shorter hours and, better pay."

E'en the boy upon the burning
Deck has got a word to say,
Something rather cross concerning
Shorter hours and better pay.

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make as much as they,
Work no more, until