“I will leave your dreary tavern Ere I drink its mandragore: Like a black and hated cavern There are reptiles on the floor; They have overrun your tavern, They are at your wine below! Come, arise, thou fearful keeper, For I go. “There’s an hostler in your stable Tends a steed no man may own, And against your windy gable How the night-birds scream and moan! Even the bread upon your table Is the ashy food of wo; Come, arise, thou fearful keeper, For I go. “Here I will not seek for slumber, And I will not taste your wine: All your house the fiends encumber, And they are no mates of mine; Nevermore I join your number Though the tempests rain or snow— Here’s my staff and here’s my mantle, And I go.” Suffering brothers—doubly brothers— (Pain hath made us more akin) Trust not to the strength of others, Trust the arm of strength within; One good hour of courage smothers All the ills an age can know; Take your staff and take your mantle, Rise and go. * * * * * SONNETS: SUGGESTED BY PASSAGES IN THE LIFE OF CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. BY MISS A. D. WOODBRIDGE. I.—THE ERA OF DISCOVERY. The darkest storm-cloud oft upon its breast Weareth the bow of promise. In the hour Of deepest anguish, words of healing power Are whispered to the spirit—“Peace!” and “Rest!” Praise to our God! if e’en Death’s shadow lower, Hope lightens all the gloom, with radiant crest— Oh! Joy is, oft, in garb of sorrow drest, And direst grief brings rapture as its dower. Thus, on the night of ages, flashed a light Of wondrous power and splendor, Learning came Forth from the cloisters. Welcome to the sight, A breath from Heaven relit religion’s flame. ’Twas then, his sail the great Discover furled, ’Twas then, was born, as ’twere, this western world. II.—THE EARLY LIFE OF COLUMBUS.