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O LADY mine ! The sun hath gone to the great west too soon. And one pale star Fahits in the crimson glories of the sky, — Ere silently The long delaying moon Brings light and strength and life ; and side by side Throughout the still June night they shall together ride. A sweet fresh wind is blowing round tile eaves ; And, 'mid the leaves Of darksome lilacs, a glad bird doth sing — Slowly as yet, and with soft whispering — Snatches of song : Until he hears, within a neighbouring dell, And answers joyously the notes he loves so well. Lady mine ! Like yonder star my love is faint and pale, Like yonder bird my lonely song must fail. 1 wait for thine 1 Edwahd F. Strange. AMORIS SAPIENTIA. WHO that hath plucked a rose, And knows it is sweet and rare. For the tiny sting of a tiny thorn On the slender stem will care ? Who that hath got red gold Deep under the world — alone, Will love it less that the treasure bright Was framed in a rugged stone ? Who that hath found a pear] Will in angry mood rebel, Or cast to the swine the priceless gem Because of the shapeless shell ? What if the red lip pale. And the fair sweet face grow thin ? What folly would cast the casket away That hides such a soul within ? Reginald Horsley.