Mourn not for the owl nor his gloomy plight!
The owl hath his share of good:

If a prisoner he be in the broad daylight,
He is lord in the dark green wood!
Nor lonely the bird, nor his ghastly mate;
They are each unto each a pride—

Thrice fonder, perhaps, since a strange, dark fate
Hath rent them from all beside!

So when the night falls, and dogs do howl, Sing Ho! for the reign of the horned owl! We know not alway who are kings by day, But the king of the night is the bold brown owl.

I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER

THOMAS HOOD

REMEMBER, I remember
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon,
Nor brought too long a day,
But now I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away!

I remember, I remember
The roses red and white,
The violets and the lily-cups,
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs where the robin built,
And where my brother set

The laburnum on his birthday,
The tree is living yet!

I remember, I remember

Where I was used to swing,

And thought the air must rush as fresh To swallows on the wing;

My spirit flew in feathers then,
That is so heavy now,

And summer pools could hardly cool
The fever on my brow!

I remember, I remember

The fir trees dark and high;

I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky:

It was a childish ignorance,

But now 'tis little joy

To know I'm further off from Heaven Than when I was a boy.

A

SONG

THOMAS HOOD

LAKE and a fairy boat

To sail in the moonlight clear,

And merrily we would float

From the dragons that watch us here!

Thy gown should be snow-white silk,
And strings of orient pearls,
Like gossamers dipped in milk,
Should twine with thy raven curls!

Red rubies should deck thy hands, And diamonds should be thy dowerBut fairies have broke their wands And wishing has lost its power!

RORY O'MORE

SAMUEL LOVER

YOUNG Rory O'More courted Kathleen Bawn;

YOUNG

He was bold as a hawk, —she as soft as the dawn; He wished in his heart pretty Kathleen to please, And he thought the best way to do that was to tease. Now, Rory, be aisy," sweet Kathleen would cry, (Reproof on her lip but a smile in her eye,)

"With your tricks I don't know, in troth, what I'm about,
Faith you've teased till I've put on my cloak inside out."
"Oh, jewel,” says Rory, "that same is the way
You've thrated my heart for this many a day;

And 'tis plas'd that I am, and why not, to be sure?
For 'tis all for good luck," says bold Rory O'More.

"Indeed, then," says Kathleen, "don't think of the like, For I half gave a promise to soothering Mike; The ground that I walk on he loves, I'll be bound." "Faith," says Rory, "I'd rather love you than the ground."

"Now, Rory, I'll cry if you don't let me go;

Sure I drame ev'ry night that I'm hating you so!" "Oh," says Rory, "that same I'm delighted to hear, For drames always go by conthraries, my dear;