And my prayer goes up, "Oh give us, crowned in youth with marriage glory,

Give for all our life's dear story,
Give us love, and give us peace!"

ABOVE THE CLOUDS.

AND can this be my own world?
'Tis all gold and snow,

Save where the scarlet waves are hurled

Down yon gulf below.

'Tis thy world, 't is my world,

City, mead, and shore,

For he that hath his own world

Hath many worlds more.

LIKE A LAVEROCK IN THE LIFT.

T'S we two, it's we two, it 's we two for aye,

All the world and we two, and Heaven be our stay.

Like a laverock in the lift, sing, O bonny bride!
All the world was Adam once with Eve by his side.

What's the world, my lass, my love! what can it do? I am thine, and thou art mine; life is sweet and new. If the world have missed the mark, let it stand by, For we two have gotten leave, and once more we'll

try.

BINDING SHEAVES.

Like a laverock in the lift, sing, O bonny bride!
It's we two, it's we two, happy side by side.

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Take a kiss from me thy man; now the song begins; "All is made afresh for us, and the brave heart wins."

When the darker days come, and no sun will shine, Thou shalt dry my tears, lass, and I 'll dry thine. It's we two, it's we two, while the world's away, Sitting by the golden sheaves on our wedding-day.

SWEET is childhood - childhood 's over,

Kiss and part.

Sweet is youth; but youth's a rover·

So 's my heart.

Sweet is rest; but by all showing
Toil is nigh.

We must go. Alas! the going.
Say "Good-bye."

BINDING SHEAVES.

HARK! a lover binding sheaves

To his maiden sings,

Flutter, flutter go the leaves,

Larks drop their wings.

Little brooks for all their mirth

Are not blythe as he

"Give me what the love is worth

That I give thee.

"Speech that cannot be forborne
Tells the story through:

I sowed my love in with the corn,
And they both grew.

Count the world full wide of girth,
And hived honey sweet,

But count the love of more worth
Laid at thy feet.

"Money's worth is house and land,
Velvet coat and vest.

Work's worth is bread in hand,

Ay, and sweet rest.

Wilt thou learn what love is worth?

Ah! she sits above,

Sighing, 'Weigh me not with earth,
Love's worth is love.""

IN his young heart

She reigned, with all the beauties that she had,
And all the virtues that he rightly took

For granted: there he set her with her crown,
And at her first enthronement he turned out
Much that was best away, for unaware
His thoughts grew nobler.

COLD AND QUIET.

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COLD AND QUIET.

COLD, my dear, cold and quiet.

In their cups on yonder lea,

Cowslips fold the brown bee's diet;

So the moss enfoldeth thee.

“Plant me, plant me, O love, a lily flower –

Plant at my head, I pray you, a green tree;

And when our children sleep," she sighed, "at the dusk hour,

And when the lily blossoms, O come out to me!"

Lost, my dear? Lost! nay, deepest
Love is that which loseth least:
Through the night-time while thou sleepest,
Still I watch the shrouded east.

Near thee, near thee, my wife that aye liveth,
"Lost" is no word for such a love as mine;
Love from her past to me a present giveth,
And love itself doth comfort, making pain divine.

Rest, my dear, rest.

Fair showeth

That which was, and not in vain
Sacred have I kept, God knoweth,

Love's last words atween us twain.

"Hold by our past, my only love, my lover;
Fall not, but rise, O love, by loss of me!"
Boughs from our garden, white with bloom hang over.
Love, now the children slumber, I come out to thee.

Ан, well! I would not overstate that woe, For I have had some blessings, little care; But since the falling of that heavy blow,

God's earth has never seemed to me so fair.

THE HIGH TIDE ON THE COAST OF LINCOLNSHIRE.

1571.

`HE old mayor climbed the belfry tower,

THE

The ringers ran by two, by three;

"Pull, if ye never pulled before;

Good ringers, pull your best,” quoth he.
"Play uppe, play uppe, O Boston bells!
Ply all your changes, all your swells,
Play uppe The Brides of Enderby."

Men say it was a stolen tyde –

The Lord that sent it, He knows all; But in myne ears doth still abide

The message that the bells let fall: And there was nought of strange, beside The flight of mews and peewits pied

By millions crouched on the old sea wall.

I sat and spun within the doore,

My thread brake off, I raised myne eyes; The level sun, like ruddy ore,

Lay sinking in the barren skies;