UNDER THE ROSES.

OVER our doorway roses twine ;
'Tis a humble home, but half divine—
In a tangle of roses and eglantine!

Wee little windows cannily look,
From under the old roof, into a brook
Frolicking down from a rocky nook!

"Welcome, darling!" they seem to say To the musical streamlet tripping away Gleefully down thro' the meadow hay!

Or, wistfully, sometimes-" prithee stay!" But never the laughing waves delay— Tho' ever so softly echoing-" ay"!

To the lean-to roof gray lichens cling;
Over it great elm branches fling
Drowsy shadows, and lazily swing!

Singing and swinging, to and fro,

In the odorous air their tassels flow,
Tenderly over the cot below!

And the sills are velveted o'er with moss

Soft as a lady's silken floss

Thresholds a fairy queen might cross!

Hither and thither the robins flit,
Or saucily under the roses sit-
Asking liberty-never a bit!

Happy as ever the birds are we!
Happy as never the birds can be-

For the birds can't love as I love thee!

Under the roses we sit and dream,

Till sorrows only like rose-leaves seem-
Floating away on the rippling stream!

Grace Appleton.

40

GO, LOVELY ROSE.

Go, lovely Rose !

Tell her, that wastes her time and me,
That now she knows,

When I resemble her to thee,

How sweet and fair she seems to be.

Tell her that's young

And shuns to have her graces spied,
That hadst thou sprung

In deserts, where no men abide,
Thou must have uncommended died.

Small is the worth

Of beauty from the light retired :
Bid her come forth,

Suffer herself to be desired,

And not blush so to be admired.

Then die! that she

That common fate of all things rare
May read in thee:

How small a part of time they share
That are so wondrous sweet and fair!

-E. Waller.

FORGET-ME-NOTS AND FOUR-LEAVED

CLOVER.