After W. M. P. Dear Kitty, At length the term’s ending; I 'm in for my Schools in a week; And the time that at present I’m…

IF a leaf rustled, she would star… And yet she died, a year ago. How had so frail a thing the heart To journey where she trembled so? And do they turn and turn in frigh…

Adown the torturing mile of street I mark him come and go, Thread in and out with tireless fe… The crossings to and fro; A soul that treads without retreat

In youth I dreamed, as other yout… Of love, and thrummed an amateur g… To verses of my own,—a stout attem… To hold communion with the Evenin… I wrote a sonnet, rhymed it, made…

To commemorate the virtue of Homo… Love, that in a tear was drown’d, Lives revived by a tear. Stella heard them mourn around Love that in a tear was drown’d,

By A. C. S. The Centuries kiss and commingle, Cling, clasp, and are knit in a ch… No cycle but scorns to be single, No two but demur to be twain,

A month ago Lysander pray’d To Jove, to Cupid, and to Venus, That he might die if he betray’d A single vow that pass’d between u… Ah, careless gods, to hear so ill

Senex. Saye, cushat, callynge fro… What ayles thee soe to pyne? Thy carefulle heart shall cease to… When dayes be fyne And greene thynges twyne:

My Juggins, see: the pasture gree… Obeying Nature’s kindly law, Renews its mantle; there has been A thaw. The frost-bound earth is free at l…

By O—r K—m. Wake! for the closed Pavilion doo… Their silence while the white-eyed… And wailed the Nightingale with ‘… Whereat, for empty cup, the White…

By the late W. W. (of H.M. Inla… And is it so? Can Folly stalk And aim her unrespecting darts In shades where grave Professors… And Bachelors of Arts?

Behold! I am not one that goes to… Professors. The elementary laws never apologis… I find letters from the Dean drop… signed by the Dean’s name—

NOT on the neck of prince or houn… Nor on a woman’€™s finger twin’€™d… May gold from the deriding ground Keep sacred that we sacred bind: Only the heel

He. Aglai-a! Aglai-a! Sweet, awaken and be glad. She. Who is this that calls Aglaia?

O Mary Leslie, blithe and shrill The bugles blew for Spain: And you below the Castle Hill Stood in the crowd your lane. Then hearts were wild to watch us…