Nae,
Ye are varra far frae richt;
Glasgow town in Dublin Bay
Is the spot we saw the licht."
But I dinna find the maps bearing out these pawkie chaps,
And I sometimes think perhaps
It has vanished out o' sight.

Oh, I fain wad win me hame
To that undiscovered lan'
That has neither place nor name
Where the Scoto-Irishman
May behold the castles fair by his fathers builded there
Many, many ages ere
Ancient history began.

_James Jeffrey Roche._

A SONG OF SORROW

A LULLABYLET FOR A MAGAZINELET

Wan from the wild and woful West--
Sleep, little babe, sleep on!
Mother will sing to--you know the rest--
Sleep, little babe, sleep on!
Softly the sand steals slowly by,
Cursed be the curlew's chittering cry;
By-a-by, oh, by-a-by!
Sleep, little babe, sleep on!

Rosy and sweet come the hush of night--
Sleep, little babe, sleep on!
(Twig to the lilt, I have got it all right)
Sleep, little babe, sleep on!
Dark are the dark and darkling days
Winding the webbed and winsome ways,
Homeward she creeps in dim amaze--
Sleep, little babe, sleep on!
(But it waked up, drat it!)

_Charles Battell Loomis._

THE REJECTED "NATIONAL HYMNS"

I

BY H---Y W. L-NGF----W

Back in the years when Phlagstaff, the Dane, was monarch
Over the sea-ribb'd land of the fleet-footed Norsemen,
Once there went forth young Ursa to gaze at the heavens--
Ursa--the noblest of all the Vikings and horsemen.

Musing, he sat in his stirrups and viewed the horizon,
Where the Aurora lapt stars in a North-polar manner,
Wildly he started,--for there in the heavens before him
Flutter'd and flam'd the original Star Spangled Banner.

II

BY J-HN GR--NL--F WH--T--R

My Native Land, thy Puritanic stock
Still finds its roots firm-bound in Plymouth Rock,
And all thy sons unite in one grand wish--
To keep the virtues of Preserved Fish.

Preserved Fish, the Deacon stern and true,
Told our New England what her sons should do,
And if they swerve from loyalty and right,
Then the whole land is lost indeed in night.

III

BY DR. OL-V-R W-ND-L H-LMES

A diagnosis of our hist'ry proves
Our native land a land its native loves;
Its birth a deed obstetric without peer,
Its growth a source of wonder far and near.

To love it more behold how foreign shores
Sink into no