ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN.

THE SPARROW AT SEA.*

AGAINST the baffling winds, with slow advance, One drear December day,

Up the vex'd Channel, tow'rd the coast of France,
Our vessel urged her way.

Around the dim horizon's misty slopes
The storm its banners hung;
And, pulling bravely at the heavy ropes,
The dripping sailors sung.

A little land-bird, from its home-nest warm,
Bewilder'd, driven, and lost,

With wearied wings, came drifting on the storm,
From the far English coast.

Blown blindly onward with a headlong speed
It could not guide or check,
Seeking some shelter in its utter need,

It dropp'd upon the deck.

Forgetting all its dread of human foes,

Desiring only rest,

It folded its weak wings, and nestled close
And gladly to my breast.

Wherefore I said this little flickering life,
Which now all panting lies,

Shall yet forget its peril and its strife,
And soar in sunny skies.

To-morrow, gaining England's shore again,
Its wings shall find their rest;

And soon, among the leaves of some green lane,
Brood o'er a summer nest.

*See Note 28.

And when amid my future wanderings,
My far and devious guest,

I hear a warbling bird, whose carol rings
More sweetly than the rest,—

Then I shall say, with heart awake and warm,
And sudden sympathy,

66

It is the bird I shelter'd in the storm,

"The life I saved at sea!"

But when the morning fell across the ship,
And storm and cloud were fled,

The golden beak no longer sought my lip,-
The wearied bird was dead.

The bitter cold, the driving wind and rain,—
Were borne too many hours;

My pity came too late and all in vain,—

Sunshine on frozen flowers.

Thus many a heart which dwells in grief and tears,
Braving and suffering much,

Bears patiently the wrong and pain of years,

But breaks at love's first touch.

ROSE TERRY COOKE.

Born at Hartford, Conn:

SEMELE.

SPIRIT of light divine!

Quick breath of power

Breathe on these lips of mine,

Persuade the bud to flower ;

Cleave thy dull swathe of cloud! no longer waits the hour.

Exulting, rapturous flame!

Dispel the night.

I dare not breathe thy name,

I tremble at thy light,

Yet come, in fatal strength,-come in all-matchless might!

Burn, as the leaping fire,
A martyr's shroud;

Burn, like an Indian pyre,

With music fierce and loud;

Come, Power! Love calls thee, come, with all the god endow'd!

Immortal life in death!
On these rapt eyes,

On this quick-failing breath,
In dread and glory rise!

The altar waits this torch,-come, touch the sacrifice!

Come not with gifts of life,
Not for my good:

My soul hath kept her strife

In fear and solitude:

More blest the inverted torch, the horror-curdled blood.

Better in light to die

Than silent live:

Rend from these lips one cry,

One death-born utterance give!

Then, clay in fire depart; then, soul! in heaven survive!

Saddle! saddle! saddle!

Leap from the broken door Where the brute Comanché enter'd

And the white-foot treads no more!

The hut is burn'd to ashes,

There are dead men stark outside,

But only a long dark ringlet

Left of the stolen bride.

Go, like the east wind's howling!
Ride with death behind!
Stay not for food or slumber

Till the thieving wolves ye find!
They came before the wedding,
Swifter than prayer or priest;
The bridemen danced to bullets,
The wild dogs ate the feast.

Look to rifle and powder!
Fasten the knife-belt sure!
Loose the coil of the lasso,-
Make the loop secure!
Fold the flask in the poncho!
Fill the pouch with maize!
And ride as if to-morrow

Were the last of living days!

Saddle! saddle! saddle!
Redden spur and thong!
Ride like the mad tornado!
The track is lonely and long.

Spare not horse nor rider!
Fly for the stolen bride!
Bring her home on the crupper,
A scalp on either side!

NORA PERRY.

IN JUNE.

So sweet, so sweet the roses in their blowing,
So sweet the daffodils, so fair to see;
So blithe and gay the humming-bird a-going
From flower to flower, a-hunting with the bee!

So sweet, so sweet the calling of the thrushes,
The calling, cooing, wooing, every where;

So sweet the water's song through reeds and rushes,
The plover's piping note, now here, now there!