Who can toll whore ooho dwells?
Is it whore the tiny bells
Of the flowers bend and swing,
Where the birds forever sing?
Echo, echo, far away.
Who can tell whore echo strays
All the happy summer days?
Through the woods she hunts the shadows,
Plays with lambs on grassy meadows.
Echo, echo far away.
Who can tell where echo sleeps ?
Is it whore a bright stream leaps
O'er a mossy grotto dark,
Lighted by a fire-fly's spark ?
Echo, echo far away.
Who can toll what echo knows?
All, she never will disclose,
To her secrets she is true.
Listen I She is calling you.
Echo, echo, far away,—
Echo, far away.
THE MAIM OF THE ItOSE.
1 opened the book before me—
Between Its leaves there lay
A rose, all withered ancl dried and dead,
Whole fragrance had passed. away.
'rho roso was brown and dull,
But i saw a faint rod stain,
For the page was marked with the rose's blood
On tho spot whore it long had lain.
And now the book of my lifo
Lies open before my eyes ;
There, too, I find a treasured rose,
And crowding fancies rise.
And this rose may facto and ale,
And its perfume vanish away,
But its mark on the pages of my heart
Shall last forever and aye
A MYSTEUY
They sat in the hammock at evening
When the shadows wore thickening fast,
Thinking more by far of the present
Than of the future or past.
From inside through the open window
Came her mother's voice gently calling,
"You ought to have something around you,
For the dew is rapidly falling."
Neither he nor sho had shawl or cloak,
Nor aught else that any could see;
Now, how oould she truly answer back,
"Oh, mama, I have lots around mc,"
University o«triorly.
THE FREE LANCE.
—Yale Lit,
—Nita Lit
FAHRENHEIT
Little Johnnie had a mirror,
But ho ate the back all ofr,
Thinking, rashly, MIMI terror,
This would cure his wooping•oough
Not long after Johnnie's mother,
Weeping said, to Mrs. Brown,
"It was a chilly day for Johnnie
When the mercury wont clown
NOT TO BE
I shall lie down and none will me arouse
In the oaro•taking morning or the swoon
Of the still, languorous, warm afternoon,
When by the deeper brooks the cattle browse,
Or day's suspension when the sun Cloth house
Ills aching head beyond the ribbing dune,
In the curved ocean or the night of moon
And falling stars—but 1 shall always drowse.
Life will go on, for those who cannot choose,
In the familiar way—the startled name
Of chaffing and impassioned blood suffuse
The cheeks of men and women still they nam
Old futile questions to the life I lose,
And getting no reply embrace their shame,
—Prosser Hall loryo (In Trinity '
LOVD AND LONG AGO
‘Vhen o'on the master poets pains
ills lyre soft and low,
Will MTV find its sweetest strains
In love and long ago.
The silver lake is peaceful when
Dim twilight sleeps above,
Yet thrice more when it glides our ken
With the peace of happy love.
God's field with starry blossoms ga y
Doth still more gaily show,
When in the beautiful tar.away
You see the long ago.
O love and long ago! the themes
Of happy rich and poor I
Where poets oemm to dream their dreams
Those songs will still endure.
Ah, yes, these themes will fill our song
Where bliss is universal love,
Whore long ago is ages long,
ln.roahns of light above.
A NEW VERSION
Tho teacher whacked the boy, one day,
Who disobeyed the rule,
The scholars did not laugh nor play,
To see that la inn in school.
—Tho La 1