_Wesleyan Literary Monthly._
~Don't You Wish You Knew!~
Glancing in the moonlight,
Gliding in the dark,
Down the river slowly,
Floats our dainty bark.
Sweetly sound two voices,
Shadows hide the view;
Heard the rushes something?
Don't you wish you knew!
Gently sigh the zephyrs,
Shine the stars above,
Eyes of brighter lustre
Speak of lasting love.
Quickly pass the hours,
Glides the bark canoe;
Heard the rushes something?
Don't you wish you knew!
A.H.B.
_Brunonian._
~Prom-Roses.~
Only a bunch of roses fair,
A duster of pink and white,
Roses that nod to the music low,
The flowers she wore that night.
She tenderly lifts each drooping head
That gracefully tosses there,
And the dainty flowers, nestling close,
Smile back at the maiden fair.
"How beautiful they are," she said,
As she pressed them to her cheek,
"Why, the opened petals almost seem
As if they were trying to speak."
I wonder why she cannot hear
The song that the flowers sing,
I wonder if she knows or cares
For the message the roses bring.
JAMES P. SAWYER.
_Yale Record_.
~A Lyric.~
Beneath the lilac-tree,
With its breathing blooms of white,
You waved a parting kiss to me
In the deepening amber light.
Your face is always near,
Your tender eyes of brown.
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