A truly wonderful sort of lay,
Whose burden is ever the same--THEY SAY--
Darting its dabbled beak under its wings.

WAYWARD LOVE.

I leant above your chair last night,
And on your brow once and again,
I pressed a kiss as still and light
As I would have your bosom's pain.
You did not feel the gentle touch,
It gave you neither grief nor pleasure,
Though that caress held, oh, so much,
Of love and blessing without measure.

Thus ever when I see you sad,
My heart toward you overflows;
But when again you're gay and glad,
I shrink back into cold repose,
I know not why I like you best,
O'erclouded by a passing sorrow--
Unless because it gives a zest
To the _insouciance_ of to-morrow.

You're welcome to my light caress,
And all the love that with it went;
To live, and love you any less,
Would rob me of my soul's content.
Continue sometimes to be sad,
That I may feel that pity tender,
Which grieves for you, and yet is glad
Of an excuse for love's surrender.

A LYRIC OF LIFE.

Said one to me: "I seem to be--
Like a bird blown out to sea,
In the hurricane's wild track--
Lost, wing-weary, beating back
Vainly toward a fading shore,
It shall rest on nevermore."

Said I: "Betide, some good ships ride,
Over all the waters wide;
Spread your wings upon the blast,
Let it bear you far and fast:
In some sea, serene and blue,
Succor-ships are waiting you."

This soul then said: "Would I were dead--
Billows rolling o'er my head!
Those that sail the ships will cast
Storm-waifs back into the blast;
Omens evil will they call
What the hurricane lets fall."

For my reply: "Beneath the sky
Countless isles of beauty lie:
Waifs upon the ocean thrown,
After tossings long and lone,
To those blessed shores have come,
Finding there love, heaven, and home."

This soul to me: "The seething sea,
Tossing hungry under me,
I fear to trust; the ships I fear;
I see no isle of beauty near;
The sun is blotted out--no more
'Twill shine for me on any shore."

Once more I said: "Be not afraid;
Yield to the storm without a dread;
For the tree, by tempests torn
From its native soil, is borne
Green, to where its ripened fruit
Gives a sturdy forest-r