hat pathless coast--
The desert and illimitable air--
Lone wandering, but not lost.

All day thy wings have fanned,
At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere,
Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land,
Though the dark night is near.

And soon that toil shall end;
Soon shall thou find a summer home, and rest,
And scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend
Soon, o'er thy sheltered nest.

Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven
Hath swallowed up thy form; yet on my heart
Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given
And shall not soon depart.

He who, from zone to zone,
Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight,
In the long way that I must tread alone
Will lead my steps aright.

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

ROBERT BURNS

(Considered by many the world's greatest Song writer and natural Poet.)

While Burns was yet a plow boy he was challenged by two highly educated
gentlemen, who were seated awaiting their dinner to be served at an Inn
in the town of Ayr.

The terms of the challenge was for each to write a verse on the event
of their first acquaintance, the one writing the best and most
appropriate short rhyme was to have his dinner paid for by the other
two.

Burns wrote as follows:

I Jonnie Peep,
Saw two sheep.
Two sheep saw me.
Half a crown apiece
Will pay for their fleece.
And I Jonnie Peep go free.

On another occasion while drinking at a Bar a hanger on who was notorious
for his much drinking and was dubbed the Marquis, asked Burns to write an
appropriate epitaph for his grave stone.

Burns, quick as flash and without any apparent effort, wrote:

Here lies a faulse Marquis:
Whose title is shamed
If ever he rises
It will be to be damned.

TO A MOUSE.

Wee, sleekit, cowrin' tim'rous beastie.
Oh, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou needna start awa' sae hasty.
Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin and chase thee,
Wi murd'ing prattle!

I'm truly sorry man's dominion
Has broken nature's social union,
And justifies that ill opinion
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor earth-born companion
And fellow-mortal!

I doubt na, whiles, but thou may thieve;
What