We have spoken of the great Florentine poet and the study of Italian; it will not perhaps be quite out of place to hint to students of German that a rich reward lies before them if they can master the language sufficiently to enjoy the lyric poems of Goethe, the higher flights of Schiller, and many others. The “Erl-König” (Erl King) by Goethe and the “Farewell of Joan of Arc to the Mountains” from Schiller’s play, _The Maid of Orleans_, were great favourites of the writer in her girlhood. German poetry is true music, whatever may be said to the contrary by those who only half know the language. Space fails us to write in full of modern English poetry. Wordsworth, Scott, Longfellow, Tennyson, Browning, Mrs. Browning, Keats, Shelley, Matthew Arnold, Arthur Hugh Clough, William Morris, are names of varying fame, but each name brings unspeakable associations to those who know and love the poet through his work. Surely one of these may become to you a teacher who will help and inspire. Wordsworth will transport you into the world of nature. How much those are to be pitied who live in the “stony-hearted” street, far from the sweet influences of wood and meadow, moor and mountain, lake and waterfall! These exiles from the true home of man may find solace in the poet of nature. “Keep fresh the grass upon his grave, O Rotha, with thy living wave; Sing him thy best! for few or none Hears thy voice right, now he is gone.” Thus Matthew Arnold apostrophises the little river that washes the Grasmere churchyard. The epitaph to Wordsworth in the Grasmere church so aptly describes his work that we cannot refrain from quoting it here. “To the memory of William Wordsworth, a True Philosopher and Poet: who, by the special gift and calling of Almighty God, whether he discoursed of Man or Nature, failed not to lift up the heart to Holy Things: tired not of maintaining the cause of the Poor and Simple; and so in Perilous Times was raised up to be a Chief Minister, not only of noblest Poesy, but of high and sacred Truth.” Robert Browning, unlike Wordsworth, is a dramatic poet at heart. We do not mean that his plays are his best work, but that he has unerring skill in reading the human heart and translating into poetry its loves, hates, fears, and ambitions. If you will try to understand him, do not be discouraged by obscurity, but begin by some of the shorter, simpler, and yet characteristic poems in the volume of _Selections_. As for Tennyson, who sings alike of man and of nature, you will probably be more readily lured to his pages than to those of Wordsworth or Browning. If you are in sorrow, _In Memoriam_ may prove a faithful comforter.