or want of his caress;
O heart that art too faithful
To ever love him less;
O eyes that find no sweetness
For hunger of his face;
O hands that long to feel him,
Always, in every place!

My spirit leans and listens,
But only hears his name,
And thought to thought leaps onward
As flame leaps unto flame;
And all kin to each other
As any brood of flowers,
Or these sweet winds of night, love,
That fan the fainting hours!

My spirit leans and listens,
My heart stands up and cries,
And only one sweet vision
Comes ever to my eyes.
So near and yet so far, love,
So dear, yet out of reach,
So like some distant star, love,
Unnamed in human speech!

My spirit leans and listens,
My heart goes out to him,
Through all the long night watches,
Until the dawning dim;
My spirit leans and listens,
What if, across the night,
His strong heart send a message
To flood me with delight?

HOWARD GLYNDON.

OUR RURAL DIVINITY.

I wonder that Wilson Flagg did not include the cow among his
"Picturesque Animals," for that is where she belongs. She has not the
classic beauty of the horse, but in picture-making qualities she is far
ahead of him. Her shaggy, loose-jointed body, her irregular, sketchy
outlines, like those of the landscape--the hollows and ridges, the
slopes and prominences--her tossing horns, her bushy tail, her swinging
gait, her tranquil, ruminating habits--all tend to make her an object
upon which the artist eye loves to dwell. The artists are for ever
putting her into pictures too. In rural landscape scenes she is an
important feature. Behold her grazing in the pastures and on the hill
sides, or along banks of streams, or ruminating under wide-spreading
trees, or standing belly deep in the creek or pond, or lying upon the
smooth places in the quiet summer afternoon, the day's grazing done, and
waiting to be summoned home to be milked; and again in the twilight
lying upon the level summit of the hill, or where the sward is thickest
and softest; or in winter a herd of them filing along toward the spring
to drink, or being "foddered" from the stack in the field upon the new
snow--surely the cow is a picturesque animal, and all her goings and
comings are pleasant to behold.

I looked into Hamerton's clever book on the domestic animals, also
expecting t