THE COMING OF SPRING

THERE'S Something in the air That's new and sweet and rare A scent of summer things,

A whirr as if of wings.

There's something too that's new

In the color of the blue

That's in the morning sky,

Before the sun is high.

And though on plain and hill,

'Tis winter, winter still,

There's something seems to say That winter's had its day.

And all this changing tint,
This whispering stir and hint
Of bud and bloom and wing,
Is the coming of the spring.

And to-morrow or to-day
The brooks will break away
From their icy, frozen sleep,
And run and laugh and leap.

And the next thing, in the woods,

The catkins in their hoods

Of fur and silk will stand,
A sturdy little band.

And the tassels soft and fine
Of the hazel will entwine,
And the elder branches show
Their buds against the snow.

So, silently, but swift,
Above the wintry drift,

The long days gain and gain,

Until, on hill and plain,

Once more, and yet once more
Returning as before,

We see the bloom of birth

Make young again the earth.

NORA PERRY.

KING CANUTE

KING CANUTE was weary-hearted: he had reigned for

years a score,

Battling, struggling, pushing, fighting, killing much and robbing more;

And he thought upon his actions, walking by the wild seashore.

On that day a something vexed him; that was clear to old and young;

Thrice his Grace had yawned at table when his favorite gleemen sung;

Once the Queen would have consoled him, but he bade her hold her tongue.

"Something ails my gracious master," cried the Keeper of the Seal.

"Sure, my lord, it is the lampreys served at dinner, or the veal?"

"Pshaw!" exclaimed the angry monarch. "Keeper, 'tis not that I feel.

"Tis the heart and not the dinner, fool, that doth my

rest impair :

Can a king be great as I am, prithee, and yet know no care? Oh, I'm sick, and tired, and weary." Some one cried, "The King's armchair!”

Then towards the lackeys turning, quick my Lord the Keeper nodded:

Straight the King's great chair was brought him, by two footmen able-bodied;

Languidly he sank into it: it was comfortably wadded.

"Ah! I feel," said old King Canute, "that my end is drawing near."

.

"Don't say so," exclaimed the courtiers (striving each

to squeeze a tear):

"Sure your Grace is strong and lusty, and may live this fifty year."

"Live these fifty year!" the Bishop roared, with actions made to suit.

"Are you mad, my good Lord Keeper, thus to speak of King Canute?

Men have lived a thousand years, and sure his Majesty will do't.

"With his skill in healing ne'er a doctor can compete : Loathsome lepers, if he touch them, start up clean upon their feet:

Surely he could raise the dead up, did his Highness think it meet.

"Did not once the Jewish captain stay the sun upon

the hill,

And, the while he slew the foemen, bid the silver moon stand still?

So, no doubt, could gracious Canute, if it were his sacred will."

"Might I stay the sun above us, good Sir Bishop? Canute cried;

"Could I bid the silver moon. to pause upon her heavenly ride?

If the moon obeys my orders, sure I can command the tide.

"Will the advancing waves obey me, Bishop, if I make the sign?"

Said the Bishop, bowing lowly, "Land and sea, my lord, are thine."

Canute turned towards the ocean.

"Back!" he said,

"thou foaming brine!