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THE ISLET.

HITHER, O whither, love, shall we go,

For a score of sweet little summers or

so?'

The sweet little wife of the singer said,

On the day that follow'd the day she was wed,
'Whither, O whither, love, shall we go?'
And the singer shaking his curly head
Turn'd as he sat, and struck the keys
There at his right with a sudden crash,
Singing, 'And shall it be over the seas

With a crew that is neither rude nor rash,

But a bevy of Eroses apple-cheek'd,
In a shallop of crystal ivory-beak'd,
With a satin sail of a ruby glow,

To a sweet little Eden on earth that I know,

A mountain islet pointed and peak'd;
Waves on a diamond shingle dash,

Cataract brooks to the ocean run,
Fairily-delicate palaces shine

Mixt with myrtle and clad with vine,
And overstream'd and silvery-streak'd
With many a rivulet high against the Sun
The facets of the glorious mountain flash
Above the valleys of palm and pine.'

'Thither, O thither, love, let us go.'

'No, no, no!

For in all that exquisite isle, my dear,

There is but one bird with a musical throat,

And his compass is but of a single note,

That it makes one weary to hear.'

'Mock me not! mock me not! love, let us go.'

"No, love, no.

For the bud ever breaks into bloom on the tree, And a storm never wakes on the lonely sea, And a worm is there in the lonely wood,

That pierces the liver and blackens the blood; And makes it a sorrow to be."

A WELCOME TO ALEXANDRA.

EA-KINGS' daughter from over the sea,

Alexandra!

Saxon and Norman and Dane are we, But all of us Danes in our welcome of thee, Alexandra!

Welcome her, thunders of fort and of fleet!

Welcome her, thundering cheer of the street!
Welcome her, all things youthful and sweet,
Scatter the blossom under her feet!

Break, happy land, into earlier flowers!

Make music, O bird, in the new-budded bowers!
Blazon your mottos of blessing and prayer!

Welcome her, welcome her, all that is ours!
Warble, O bugle, and trumpet, blare!

Flags, flutter out upon turrets and towers!
Flames, on the windy headland flare!
Utter your jubilee, steeple and spire!

Clash, ye bells, in the merry March air!
Flash, ye cities, in rivers of fire!

Rush to the roof, sudden rocket, and higher
Melt into stars for the land's desire!

Roll and rejoice, jubilant voice,

Roll as a ground-swell dash'd on the strand,
Roar as the sea when he welcomes the land,
And welcome her, welcome the land's desire,
The sea-kings' daughter as happy as fair,

L

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