THE CHILDREN-(Continued) O, God! From this crime of the ages, For still Thy forbearance is shown -CHARLES M. DICKINSON. FROM "MANHATTAN” HEY tear them down-the little homes THE They They cannot leave them long; It is as if they robbed the world Of every little song. Turrets and towers leap in their places Too soon we lose them-little friends- Not Time, but Man has crushed them all, -CHARLES HANSON TOWNE. CONTENTMENT HAD my dream and so I lived content A dream beneath the wide, kind sky of old— Out in the orchard where the soft winds bent The swaying branches, and strange stories told Of life within the far-off town of menMad music on the highway-and the gleam Of glory on life's firing line-and then I lived content because of such a dream. I have my dream and so I live content- -GRANTLAND RICE. D AN ANGLER'S EPISTLE EAR BROTHER Angler: Not a fin Appears enliquidate within These local depths,—whether of trout Fixed to no object-here I live, Or vagrant on a vacuous shore. If such delights your soul may stir You're not the man I thought you were. Though they are just as well for meArrear of tranquillity As haling monsters to the pan Or snarking old Leviathan. And so I shall not play the lyre Strung with mendacious telegraph wire Ah, but I can't forbear a dream Of Shinn Pond and of Hobart Stream, AN ANGLER'S EPISTLE-(Continued) And how if we were luring out With partridge clucking in the bushes Alors, let's have some fishing yet! -ROBERT HAVEN SCHAUFFLER. |