t, Bk. IV_. MILTON.

It is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale's high note is heard;
It is the hour when lovers' vows
Seem sweet in every whispered word.
_Parisina_. LORD BYRON.

O, Twilight! Spirit that doth render birth
To dim enchantments, melting heaven with earth,
Leaving on craggy hills and running streams
A softness like the atmosphere of dreams.
_Picture of Twilight_. MRS. C. NORTON.

Now came still evening on; and twilight gray
Had in her sober livery all things clad:
Silence accompanied; for beast and bird,
They to their grassy couch, these to their nests,
Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. IV_. MILTON.

The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.
_A Life Drama_. A. SMITH.

When on the marge of evening the last blue light is broken,
And winds of dreamy odor are loosened from afar
_When on the Marge of Evening_. L.I. GUINEY.

When day is done, and clouds are low,
And flowers are honey-dew,
And Hesper's lamp begins to glow
Along the western blue;
And homeward wing the turtle-doves,
Then comes the hour the poet loves.
_The Poet's Hour_. G. CROLY.

The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices.
_Ulysses_. A. TENNYSON.

The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration.
_It is a Beauteous Evening_. W. WORDSWORTH.

EXPECTATION.

'Tis expectation makes a blessing dear;
Heaven were not heaven, if we knew what it were.
_Against Fruition_. SIR J. SUCKLING.

Oft expectation fails, and most oft there
Where most it promises; and oft it hits
Where hope is coldest, and despair most fits.
_All's Well that Ends Well, Act ii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Why wish for more?
Wishing, of all employments, is the worst;
Philosophy's reverse and health's decay.
_Night Thoughts, Night IV_. DR. E. YOUNG.

EYE.

A gray eye is a sly eye,
And roguish is a brown one;
Turn full upon me thy eye,--
Ah, how its wavelets drown one!
A blue eye is a true eye;
Mysterious is a dark one,
Which flashes like a spark-sun!
A black eye is the best one.
_Oriental Poetry: Mirza Shaffy on Eyes_. W.B. ALGER.

O lovely eyes of azure,
Clear as the waters of a brook that run
Limpid and laughing in the summer sun!
_The Masque of Pandora, Pt. I_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.