w-garland pushed all aslant
Tells--but I tell not, wanton May!

NOTE. The first two stanzas are from a French original--I have
forgotten what.

A DEAD ASTRONOMER.

(Father Perry, S.J.)

Starry amorist, starward gone,
Thou art--what thou didst gaze upon!
Passed through thy golden garden's bars,
Thou seest the Gardener of the Stars.

She, about whose moon-ed brows
Seven stars make seven glows,
Seven lights for seven woes;
She, like thine own Galaxy,
All lustres in one purity:-
What said'st thou, Astronomer,
When thou did'st discover HER?
When thy hand its tube let fall,
Thou found'st the fairest Star of all!

'CHOSE VUE'.

A metrical caprice.

Up she rose, fair daughter--well she was graced
As a cloud her going, stept from her chair,
As a summer-soft cloud, in her going paced,
Down dropped her riband-band, and all her waving hair
Shook like loosened music cadent to her waist;--
Lapsing like music, wavery as water,
Slid to her waist.

'WHERETO ART THOU COME?'

'Friend, whereto art thou come?' Thus Verity;
Of each that to the world's sad Olivet
Comes with no multitude, but alone by night,
Lit with the one torch of his lifted soul,
Seeking her that he may lay hands on her;
Thus: and waits answer from the mouth of deed.
Truth is a maid, whom men woo diversely;
This, as a spouse; that, as a light-o'-love,
To know, and having known, to make his brag.
But woe to him that takes the immortal kiss,
And not estates her in his housing life,
Mother of all his seed! So he betrays,
Not Truth, the unbetrayable, but himself:
And with his kiss's rated traitor-craft,
The Haceldama of a plot of days
He buys, to consummate his Judasry
Therein with Judas' guerdon of despair.

HEAVEN AND HELL.

'Tis said there were no thought of hell,
Save hell were taught; that there should be
A Heaven for all's self-credible.
Not so the thing appears to me.
'Tis Heaven that lies beyond our sights,
And hell too possible that proves;
For all can feel the God that smites,
But ah, how few the God that loves!

TO A CHILD.

Whenas my life shall time with funeral tread
The heavy death-drum of the beaten hours,
Following, sol