Part 45

LEIGH HUNT--Rimini.

49. A laugh full of life, without any control But the sweet one of gracefulness, rung from the soul.

MOORE--Lalla Rookh.

50. Fifes, cornets, drums, That rouse the sleepy soul to arms, and bold Heroic deeds.

SOMERVILLE--The Chace.

51. A little song, Neither sad nor very long.

BARRY CORNWALL.

52. A voice of music in the rustling leaves, When the green boughs are hung with living lutes, Whose strings will only vibrate to His hand Who made them.

MISS H. F. GOULD.

53. The drums beat in the mornin', afore the scriech o' day, And the wee, wee fifes piped loud and shrill, while yet the morn is gray.

MOTHERWELL.

54. The unseen hawk Whistling to clouds, and sky-born streams.

WORDSWORTH.

55. The low, sweet shell, By whose far music shall thy soul be haunted.

MISS LANDON.

56. The trumpet's war-note proud, The trampling and the hum!

MACAULAY.

57. A pattering sound Of ripen'd acorns, rustling to the ground Through the crisp, wither'd leaves.

MRS. WHITMAN.

58. Birds and brooks from leafy dells, Chiming forth unwearied canticles.

WORDSWORTH.

59. When the organ peal, loud rolling, meets The halleluiahs of the choir; sublime, A thousand notes symphoniously ascend, As if the whole were one; suspended high In air, soaring heavenward, afar they float, Wafting glad tidings to the sick man's couch.

GRAHAME--The Sabbath.

60. Tinklings of a vigilant guitar, Of sleepless lover to a wakeful mistress.

BYRON.

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FLOWER?

I would I had some flowers of the Spring that might Become your time of day; and yours;--and yours.

Winter's Tale.