wasted.

The waving woodlands lie;

That never yet were tasted.

Sad is the vague and tender dream
Of dead love's lingering kisses,
To crushed hearts haloed by the
gleam

Of unreturning blisses;

Deep mourns the soul in anguished pride

For the pitiless death that won them,

But the saddest wail is for lips that died

With the virgin dew upon them.

ON THE BLUFF.

O GRANDLY flowing River!
O silver-gliding River!
Thy springing willows shiver
In the sunset as of old;
They shiver in the silence
Of the willow-whitened islands,
While the sun-bars and the sand-bars
Fill air and wave with gold.

O gay, oblivious River!
O sunset-kindled River!
Do you remember ever

The eyes and skies so blue
On a summer day that shone here,
When we were all alone here,
And the blue eyes were too wise
To speak the love they knew?

O stern impassive River!
O still unanswering River!
The shivering willows quiver

As the night-winds moan and rave.
From the past a voice is calling,
From heaven a star is falling,
And dew swells in the bluebells
Above her hillside grave.

A WOMAN'S LOVE.

A SENTINEL angel sitting high in glory

Heard this shrill wail ring out from Purgatory:

"Have mercy, mighty angel, hear my story!