A PLAIN ANSWER

(TO A CIVIL QUESTION.)

BRIGHT

RIGHT creature of impulse, you bid me be gay.

I would gladly adopt the suggestion, But candour compels me sincerely to say That I don't like the tone of your ques

tion.

In a voice that recalls the soft murmur

of bees,

And in syllables sweet as their honey,

You say "Mamma wishes to know, if you please,
When you mean to begin to be funny?"

To-night, giddy child, when I enter'd the room
My inducement, believe me, was only

A hope that the wine-cup and dance might illume
For one evening a life that is lonely.

hi na kuga of which Time has bereft me.

Yes, the day may arrive the fall see me content
With my share of health, talent, and money:
Then, 50y to ball hat auspicious event,

I will try to begin to be funny!

IN A HUNDRED YEARS.

AN extra smile or a burst of tears—

A fine to-day or a dull to-morrow

A taste more joy or a drop more sorrowAll the same in a hundred years.

A thousand hopes or a thousand fears—

A lifetime sad or a lifetime wasted-
A cup drain'd empty or left untasted—
Ali the same in a hundred years.

If things were thus, as one often hears,

I'd seize the pleasure, I'd leave the sorrowEnjoy to-day and defy to-morrow

All the same in a hundred years.

EVENING.

E birds, beneath your little wings
Go hide your little heads;

For oh! the pleasantest of things
On earth are feather-beds.
Go, seek your pens, my little sheep,
(And slumber while ye may ;)
My own will rob me of my sleep
Until the purple day.

Shine on above the chimney-pots,

O placid Evening Star :

While gazing at you à la WATTS,
"I wonder what you are."

You rose on Eden, happy place!

And still your smiles relieve

The woes and wants of ADAM's race,
Delightful Star of Eve.

The nightingales are all about

Their song is everywhere

Their notes are lovely (though they're out

So often in the air),

The zephyr, dancing through the tops

Of ash and poplar, weaves

Low melodies, and scarcely stops

To murmur," By your leaves !"

Night steeps the passions of the day
In quiet, peace, and love.
Pale Dian, in her tranquil way,

Kicks up a shine above.

Oh, I could bless the hour that brings
All deep and dear delight,

Unless I had a lot of things

To polish off to-night.