Lo! in the painted oriel of the West, Whose panes the sunken sun incarnadines, Like a fair lady at her casement, shines The evening star, the star of love and rest! And then anon she doth herself divest Of all her radiant garments, and reclines Behind the somber screen of yonder pines, With slumber and soft dreams of love oppressed. O my beloved, my sweet Hesperus! My morning and my evening star of love! My best and gentlest lady! even thus, As that fair planet in the sky above, Dost thou retire unto thy rest at night, And from thy darkened window fades the light. --Longfellow. MERCURY. First, Mercury, amid full tides of light, Rolls next the sun, through his small circle bright; Our earth would blaze beneath so fierce a ray, And all its marble mountains melt away. Fair Venus next fulfills her larger round, With softer beams and milder glory crowned; Friend to mankind, she glitters from afar, Now the bright evening, now the morning star. --Baker. A RAMBLE ON THE MOON. The moon was shining brightly and flooding Harry's room with its rays. He was suffering so very much, and had tried in vain to sleep. Presently he asked his nurse if she would not let Mary come and talk to him. "It will not tire me," he begged earnestly; "and it does tire me to lie here hour after hour with no one to talk to." His nurse understood him so well, and her heart ached for the lonely child who had so little to amuse him in life. She never refused a request if it were at all possible to grant it. So she called his sister Mary, who hastened at once to his room, and brother and sister were soon far away on a ramble in starland. "We shall go to the moon this evening," she began, "and find out what a queer old world it is." "Old?" asked Harry; "why do you call it old, when it looks so bright and new? See, sister, how it seems to be looking right into the window and watching us. I wonder if it knows what we are saying about it. Now what would it think if it heard you calling it old?" [Illustration: THE MOON.] "But it is," said Mary, laughing; "and very old indeed. Its face is wrinkled and scarred, and is just like that of the old dried-up apple we found in the orchard the other day." "What makes it so bright, then, if it is so old?" asked Harry, as he looked curiously at the moon. "It borrows its light from the sun," replied his sister; "if the sun were to stop shining you would not be able to see the moon at all. It would be as dark as night and twice as gloomy." "Do you think there are people on the moon?" asked Harry excitedly.