he pall.
Brother-man, I pray you stand,
Hear a minstrel; but the song
If you do not understand,
Pass and do not do it wrong.

TO CYBEL DEAR.

LOVE-SONG.

Though others plight for pride or gain,
And mix the cup of love;
Theirs be the duller troth, the stain;
Ours the sweet stars approve.
My riches, love, they shall be thou;
My pride, thy love for me:
No diamond fairer decks a brow
Than thine sincerity.

Though ours be tenements, not towers,
Theirs, lawns and halls of ease,
Beloved, 'tis heaven, not gold, is ours,
And the realities.
No sordid wish doth make us one,
But love, love, love.
O surely, surely, that is done
Which the sweet stars approve.

THE STILL TRYST.

How love transcends our mortal sphere,
And sees again the spirit-world,
Forgot so daily. Thou art here;--
I know thee, sweet--though fair impearled
Thy face in a far atmosphere
To others,--hearing in the sea
My love a-crying up to thee.

Thou by the surf, I on the lake:--
Yet in the _real_ world we meet;
And O, for thy endeared sake,
Love, all I am is at thy feet.
With thy life let me breathing take,
And through all nature do thou see
My love a-crying up to thee.

And with thine eyes shall I pursue
Yon shower-veils from the sunset flying,
Blown mid clouds white and lurid-blue
That crowd the rainbow's arch, defying
Him who in red death shoots them through.
Look with me; in this pageant see
My love all glowing up to thee.

See what I see, hear what I hear,
I too am with thee by the wave--
One all the day, the hour, the year:
Our trust of love shall be so brave,
We shall deny that death is here
Or any power in the grave.
I know thee; thou canst love like this;
Be ours the endless spirit-kiss.

Dusk falls. How purely shines that star,
Concealed while day was in the sky;
Life, love and thou not mortal are,
Though atheist noon your world deny.
Dusk falls:--though in the west a bar
Of bloom on evening's pure cheek be;
In beauty thy love cries to me.

THE CHICKIEBIDS.

The chickiebids are in their nest
Overhead,--
Dimpled shapes of rosy rest
Curled a-bed.
Night has sung her spell, and thrown
Her dark net round
Their heads; their pearly ears have grown
Deaf to all other sound.

O of me how you are part,
Babies mine!
Your hearts are children of my heart.
The inner sign
Of my eyes lurks in your eyes,
A