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She climbed the castle tower,
Sire, Dagmar is no more!
“The storm that held thy ship from land
Reached, too, the towering steep-
Found her, a lifeless heap.
Till the sound of the last sad knell,
Wilt enter and bid farewell?”
The viking, with dazed and grief-struck mien,
Then staggered within the door, And tried in vain to control that will
Which he ne'er had lost before. That heart, which the years of war and strife
Had never succeeded to moveAh, who would guess what a mighty power
Was that greatest viking's—Love!
He severed a lock of her golden hair
Ere he spoke the farewell call, And caressed once more the cold, still cheek,
And was gone from the castle hall. He sought the cliff, with its glittering crags,
Each capped with a crown of snow, And cried aloud to the vikings' god,
In his pride and pain and woe.
“O Thor! My people have called me brave,
Yet I shrink from my life to-night,
Have I a viking's right?
To battle again,-a man!
If under thy mighty ban!”
'Twas near to the hour when the waning year Would take his flight for aye, When the viking, haggard and worn, strode down
To his ship in the rock-bound bay. The sailors, stretched by a blazing fire,
Sprang up at their lord's first tone: · Vassals, launch me my ship!” he cried;
“I sail to-night-alone!
Gathered in wonder upon the shore,
The sailors watched the bark
O'er the water deep and dark;
Just as the flames above
And the soul of his lady-love.
With roseate hue of dawning day
The New-year cast its veil,
Over the evening's tale;
With never a backward sigh,
With the year that had just passed by.
C. S. CALVERLEY.
(From "Fly Leaves,"by permission of the publishers.]
HE laid it where the sunbeams fall
the broken wall.
And fenced with many a tall grass blade,
No human eye had marked her pass
And there it might liave lain forlorn
"My hen has laid an egg, I know;
A BOY'S KING.
S. E. KISER.
What ever lived, I bet,
And I ain't never seen no one
But mamma says that he
And that surprises me.
And often papa talks about
How he must work away-
And do what others say;
When he's so good and great,
The ruler of the State!
He knows the names of lots of stars,
And he knows all the trees,
Of all the birds he sees,
And figure in his head-
But I bet you they are dead.
He talked to mamma then,
The slave of other men,
For her and meand I
Don't know what made me do it, but
I had to go and cry!
And so when I sat on his knee
I ast him: “ Is it true
When others tell you to?
You surely ought to be
A slave, it seems to me."
And then the tears come to his eyes,
And he hugged me tight and said:
that in your head?
That ever yet held sway,
And my little realm away."
VISITING LAURA BELLE.
S. E. KISER. 'VE just been up to town to see my daughter Laura Belle
She married Henry Lee, you know—they're doin' mighty
well! Live right in style, I tell you, in a house that's big enough For half-a-dozen families most, 'nd, oh, the piles of stuff That they've got scattered through it, sich as bricy-brack ’nd
books, 'Nd they're keepin'"first” ’nd "second" girls ’nd chambermaids
’nd cooks, 'Nd kerridges 'nd all such like, 'nd she wears diamond ringsI vow, it must make Henry hump to pay fer all them things!
'Nd they are in society, clean over head ’nd allCard-parties 'nd receptions, incl now ’nd then a ball,