Last night, my darling, as you slept I thought I heard you sigh, And to your little crib I crept And watched a space thereby, And then I stooped and kissed your brow, For oh, I love you so— You are too young to know it now But some time you will know. Some time when in a darkened place When others come to weep Your eyes shall look upon a face Calm in eternal sleep, The voiceless lips, the wrinkled brow, The patient smile will show— You are too young to know it now But some time you will know. Look backward then, into the years And see me here to-night— See, oh my darling, how my tears Are falling as I write; And feel once more upon your brow The kiss of long ago— You are too young to know it now But some time you will know. —_Eugene Field._ LARK Bird of the wilderness, Blithesome and cumberless, Sweet be thy matin o’er moorland and lea! Emblem of happiness, Blest is thy dwelling-place— Oh, to abide in the desert with thee! Wild is thy lay, and loud; Far in the downy cloud Love gives it energy—love gave it birth. Where, on thy dewy wing, Where art thou journeying, Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth. O’er fell and fountain sheen, O’er moor and mountain green, O’er the red streamer that heralds the day; O’er the cloudlet dim, O’er the rainbow’s rim, Musical cherub soar, singing away. Then, when the gloaming comes, Low, in the heather blooms, Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be! Emblem of happiness, Blest is thy dwelling-place— Oh, to abide in the desert with thee! —_James Hogg._ WEARY OF MYSELF The following is poetry—every line of it—and infinitely good. It is by Matthew Arnold. Weary of myself and sick of asking What I am and what I ought to be, At this vessel’s prow I stand, which bears me Forward, forward o’er the starlit sea. And a look of passionate desire O’er the sea and to the stars I send; Ye who from my childhood up have claimed me, Calm me, ah compose me to the end! “Ah, once more,” I cried, “ye stars, ye waters, On my heart your mighty charm renew; Still, still let me, as I gaze upon you, Feel my soul becoming vast like you!” From the intense, clear, star-sown vault of heaven O’er the lit sea’s unquiet way In the rustling night-air came the answer: “Wouldst thou be as these are? Live as they. “Unaffrighted by the silence round them, Undisturbed by the sights they see, These demand not that the things without them Yield them love, amusement, sympathy.