re
Is shrivelled in a fruitless fire,
Or but subserves another's gain.

Behold, we know not anything;
I can but trust that good shall fall
At last--far off--at last, to all,
And every winter change to spring.

So runs my dream: but what am I?
An infant crying in the night:
An infant crying for the light:
And with no language but a cry.

ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON.

* * * * *

DAY BREAKS.

What dost thou see, lone watcher on the tower.
Is the day breaking? Comes the wished-for hour?
Tell us the signs, and stretch abroad thy hand,
If the bright morning dawns upon the land.

"The stars are clear above me; scarcely one
Has dimmed its rays in reverence to the sun;
But I yet see on the horizon's verge
Some fair, faint streaks, as if the light would surge."

Look forth again, O watcher on the tower,--
The people wake and languish for the hour;
Long have they dwelt in darkness, and they pine
For the full daylight that they know must shine.

"I see not well,--the moon is cloudy still,--
There is a radiance on the distant hill;
Even as I watch the glory seems to grow;
But the stars blink, and the night breezes blow."

And is that all, O watcher on the tower?
Look forth again; it must be near the hour;
Dost thou not see the snowy mountain copes,
And the green woods beneath them on the slopes?

"A mist envelops them; I cannot trace
Their outline; but the day comes on apace:
The clouds roll up in gold and amber flakes,
And all the stars grow dim; the morning breaks."

We thank thee, lonely watcher on the tower:
But look again, and tell us, hour by hour,
All thou beholdest: many of us die
Ere the day comes; oh, give them a reply!

"I see the hill-tops now, and chanticleer
Crows his prophetic carol on mine ear;
I see the distant woods and fields of corn,
And ocean gleaming in the light of morn."

Again, again, O watcher on the tower!
We thirst for daylight, and we bide the hour,
Patient, but longing. Tell us, shall it be
A bright, calm, glorious daylight for the free?

"I hope, but cannot tell; I hear a song,
Vivid as day itself, and clear and strong,
As of a lark--young prophet of the noon--
Pouring in sunlight his seraphic tune."

What doth he say, O watcher on the tower?
Is he a prophet? does the dawning hour
Inspire his music? Is his chant sublime,
F