How it the purple flower does slight,
Scarce touching where it lies;
But gazing back upon the skies,.
Shines with a mournful light,
Like its own tear,

Because so long divided from the sphere;
Restless it rolls, and unsecure,
Trembling, lest it grow impure;
Till the warm sun pities its pain,
And to the skies exhales it back again.

- Andrew Marvell.

PUCK AND THE FAIRY.

Puck. H Fairy. Over hill, over dale,

OW now, spirit! whither wander you?

66

Through bush, through brier,
Over park, over pale,

Through flood, through fire,
I do wander everywhere,
Swifter than the moon's sphere;
And I serve the fairy queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green;
The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
In their gold coats, spots you see;
Those be rubies, fairy favors,

In those freckles live their savors;
I must go seek some dewdrops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.
Farewell, thou lob of spirits; I'll be gone:

Our queen and all her elves come here anon.

Midsummer-Night's Dream."

- William Shakespeare.

TO JUNE.

AY'S a word 'tis sweet to hear,

Laughter of the budding

year;

Sweet it is to start, and

say

On May morning, "This is

May!"

But there also breathes a

tune,

Hear it, in the sound of

"June."

June's a month, and June's a name,
Never yet hath had its fame.
Summer's in the sound of June,
Summer and a deepened tune
Of the bees, and of the birds,
And of loitering lovers' words,
And the brooks that, as they go,
Seem to think aloud, yet low;
And the voice of early heat,
Where the mirth-spun insects meet;
And the very color's tone
Russet now, and fervid grown;
All a voice, as if it spoke

Of the brown wood's cottage smoke,
And the sun, and bright green oak.
O come quickly, show thee soon,
Come at once with all thy noon,
Manly, joyous, gypsy June.

-James Henry Leigh Hunt.

SUMMER.

HE Summer dawn's reflected hue

THE

To purple changed Loch Katrine blue;
Mildly and soft the western breeze

Just kissed the lake, just stirr'd the trees,
And the pleased lake, like maiden coy,
Trembled but dimpled not for joy;
The mountain-shadows on her breast
Were neither broken nor at rest;
In bright uncertainty they lie,
Like future joys to Fancy's eye.
The waterlily to the light

Her chalice rear'd of silver bright;
The doe awoke, and to the lawn,
Begemm'd with dewdrops, led her fawn;
The gray mist left the mountain side,
The torrent show'd its glistening pride;
Invisible in flecked sky,

The lark sent down her revelry;

The blackbird and the speckled thrush
Good-morrow gave from brake and bush;
In answer coo'd the cushat dove

Her notes of peace, and rest, and love.

UP

O'er the meadow swift we fly;
Now we sing, and now we mourn,
Now we whistle, now we sigh.

By the grassy-fringèd river,

Through the murmuring reeds we sweep:
Mid the lily leaves we quiver,

To their very hearts we creep.

Now the maiden rose is blushing
At the frolic things we say,

While aside her cheek we're rushing,

Like some truant bees at play.

Through the blooming groves we rustle,

Kissing every bud we pass,

As we did it in the bustle,

Scarcely knowing how it was.

Down the glen, across the mountain,
O'er the yellow heath we roam,
Whirling round about the fountain
Till its little breakers foam.

Bending down the weeping willows,
While our vesper hymn we sigh;
Then unto our rosy pillows
On our weary wings we hie.

There of idlenesses dreaming,
Scarce from waking we refrain,
Moments long as ages deeming
Till we're at our play again.

-George Darley.

THE WEST WIND.

ENEATH the forest's skirts I rest,

Whose branching pines rise dark and high,

And hear the breezes of the West

Among the thread-like foliage sigh.

Sweet Zephyr! why that sound of woe?
Is not thy home among the flowers?

Do not the bright June roses blow,

To meet thy kiss at morning hours?

And lo! thy glorious realm outspread -
Yon stretching valleys, green and gay,
And yon free hill-tops o'er whose head
The loose white clouds are borne away.

And there the full broad river runs,

And many a fount wells fresh and sweet, To cool thee when the mid-day suns

Have made thee faint beneath their heat.

Thou wind of joy, and youth, and love,
Spirit of the new-wakened year, -

The sun in his blue realm above

Smooths a bright path when thou art here.