O HEMLOCK tree! O hemlock tree! The meadow brook, the meadow

Annie of Tharaw, my riches, my good,

Thou, O my soul, my flesh and my blood!

Then come the wild weather, come

sleet or come snow,

Annie of Tharaw, such is not our love;

Thou art my lambkin, my chick, and my dove.

Whate'er my desire is, in thine may be seen;

We will stand by each other, how I am king of the household, and

ever it blow.

The threads of our two lives are woven in one.

Whate'er I have bidden thee thou hast obeyed,

Whatever forbidden thou hast not gainsaid.

thou art its queen.

It is this, O my Annie, my heart's sweetest rest,

That makes of us twain but one soul in one breast.

This turns to a heaven the hut where we dwell;

While wrangling soon changes a home to a hell.

THE STATUE OVER THE CA-
THEDRAL DOOR.

FROM THE GERMAN OF JULIUS
MOSEN.

FORMS of saints and kings are stand-
ing

The cathedral door above;
Yet I saw but one among them

Who had soothed my soul with
love.

In his mantle,-wound about him,

As their robes the sowers wind,Bore he swallows and their fledglings,

Flowers and weeds of every kind.

And so stands he calm and childlike,
High in wind and tempest wild ;

How in the turmoil of life can love O, were I like him exalted,

stand,

Where there is not one heart, and one mouth, and one hand?

Some seek for dissension, and trouble and strife;

I would be like him, a child!

And my songs,-green leaves and blossoms,

To the doors of heaven would bear,

Like a dog and a cat live such man Calling, even in storm and tempest,

and wife.

Round me still these birds of air.

THE LEGEND OF THE CROSS. My heart, and the sea, and the

Feels, but scarcely feels, a trembling FROM THE SINNGEDICHTE OF FRIED

only bites us, like the smoke. If perhaps these rhymes of mine