Is it here? Is it there?
Pray tell me where
The morning zephyrs tarry,
That I may bide
Where they crouch and hide,
And sip of the dew they carry.
Over the billow and over the wave,
Over the vales and valleys,
I seek for the spot where the night-wind dreams,
And rests from its twilight rallies.
Is it here? Is it there?
Pray tell me where
The breath of night lies sleeping,
That I may rest
In its downy nest,
With its breath my eyelids steeping.
W.T.O.
_Trinity Tablet._
~Lullaby.~
Breezes in the tree-tops high,
Sighing softly as you blow,
Sing a restful lullaby;
Sing the sweetest song you know,
Something slow, something low,--
Lulla-lullaby.
Barley heads and crested wheat,
Swaying gently to and fro,
Sing the music of the heat,
Sing the drowsiest song you know,
Something slow, something low,--
Lulla-lullaby.
Brooklet hidden in the grass,
Murmuring faintly as you flow,
Sing a sleep song while you pass;
Sing the dreamiest song you know,
Something slow, something low,--
Lulla-lullaby.
MABEL A. CARPENTER.
_Wellesley Magazine._
~Our Scarlet King.~
He comes along the great highway
In scarlet coat and crown,
And high the shrilling trumpets bray
And fierce his lancers frown.
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