Delayed it may be for more lives yet,

Thro' worlds I shall traverse, not a few: Much is to learn, much to forget

Ere the time be come for taking you.

But the time will come, at last it will,

When, Evelyn Hope, what meant (I shall say)
In the lower earth, in the years long still,
That body and soul so pure and gay?
Why your hair was amber, I shall divine,
And your mouth of your own geranium's red-
And what you would do with me, in fine,

In the new life come in the old one's stead.

I have lived (I shall say) so much since then,
Given up myself so many times,

Gained me the gains of various men,

Ransacked the ages, spoiled the climes;
Yet one thing, one, in my soul's full scope,
Either I missed or itself missed me:
And I want and find you, Evelyn Hope!
What is the issue? Let us see!

I loved you, Evelyn, all the while!

My heart seemed full as it could hold;

There was place and to spare for the frank young smile, And the red young mouth, and the hair's young gold, So hush, I will give you this leaf to keep:

See, I shut it inside the sweet cold hand!

There, that is our secret: go to sleep!

You will wake, and remember, and understand.

A DREAM WITHIN A DREAM

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
This much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream:

Edgar Allen Poe.

Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep-while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem

But a dream within a dream?

FLOWER IN THE CRANNIED WALL

Flower in the crannied wall,

Alfred Tennyson.

I pluck you out of the crannies;

Hold you here, root and all, in my hand,
Little flower-but if I could understand
What you are, root and all, and all in all,
I should know what God and man is.

A WOMAN'S LAST WORD

Robert Browning.

Let's contend no more, Love,

Strive nor weep:

All be as before, Love,

-Only sleep!

-Must a little weep, Love,
(Foolish me!)

And so fall asleep, Love,
Loved by thee.

THE OLD MAN GOES TO TOWN

J. G. Swinnerton.

Well, wife, I've been to 'Frisco, an' I called to see the boys. I'm tired, an' more'n half deafened with the travel an' the noise;

So I'll sit down by the chimbly, and rest my weary bones, And tell how I was treated by our 'ristocratic sons.

As soon's I reached the city, I hunted up our Dan

Ye know he's now a celebrated wholesale business man. I walked down from the depo'-Dan keeps a country seatAn' I thought to go home with him, an' rest my weary feet.

All the way I kep'a thinkin' how famous it 'ud be
To go 'round the town together-my grown-up boy an'

me

An' remember the old times, when my little "curly head" Used to cry out, "Good-night, papa!" from his little trundle-bed.

I never thought a minit that he wouldn't want to see
His gray an' worn old father, or would be ashamed of me.
So when I seen his office, with a sign writ out in gold,
I walked in 'ithout knocking,-but the old man was too
bold.

Dan was settin' by a table, an' a-writin' in a book.
He knowed me in a second; but he give me such a look!
He never said a word o' you, but axed about the grain,
An' ef I thought the valley didn't need a little rain.

I didn't stay a great while, but inquired after Rob.
Dan said he lived upon a hill-I think they call it Nob.

An' when I left, Dan, in a tone that almost broke me down, Said, "Call an' see me, won't ye, whenever you're in town?"

It was ruther late that evenin' when I found our Robert's house;

There was music, lights and dancin' and a mighty big

carouse.

At the door a nigger met me, an' he grinned from ear to ear, Sayin' "Keerds ob invitation, or you nebber git in here."

I said I was Rob's father; an', with another grin,
The nigger left me stan'in' and disappeared within,
Rob came out on the porch-he didn't order me away;
But said he hoped to see me at his office the next day.

Then I started fur the tavern, fur I knowed there, anyway, They wouldn't turn me out so long's I'd money fur to pay. An' Rob an' Dan had left me about the streets to roam, An' neither of 'em axed me if I'd money to git home.

It may be the way o' rich folks-I don't say 'at it is notBut we remember some things Rob an' Dan have quite forgot.

We didn't quite expect this, when, twenty years ago, We mortgaged the old homestead to give Rob an' Dan a show.

I didn't look fur Charley, but I happened just to meet Him with a lot o' friends o' his'n, a-comin' down the street. I thought I'd pass on by him, for fear our youngest son Would show he was ashamed o' me, as Rob an' Dan had done.

But soon as Charley seen me, he, right afore 'em all, Said: "God bless me, there's my father!" as loud as he could bawl.

Then he introduced me to his frien's, and sent 'em all away, Tellin' 'em he'd see 'em later, but was busy for that day.