Still barred thy door; the far east glows,

The morning wind blows fresh and free; Should not the hour that wakes the rose Awaken also thee?

All look for thee, Love, Light, and Song -
Light in the sky deep red above,
Song, in the lark of pinions strong,
And in my heart, true Love.

Apart we miss our nature's goal;
Why strive to cheat our destinies?
Was not my love made for thy soul?
Thy beauty for my eyes?

TORU DUTT

FATE

WO shall be born the whole wide world apart,

And speak in different tongues and have no thought

Each of the other's being, and no heed;

Yet these o'er unknown seas to unknown lands
Shall cross; escaping wreck, defying death,
And all unconsciously shape every act
And bend each wandering step unto this end,
That one day out of darkness they shall meet
And read life's meaning in each other's eyes.

And two shall walk some narrow way of life
So closely side by side, that should one turn
Ever so little space to left or right

They needs must stand acknowledged face to face;
Yet these with groping hands that never clasp,
With wistful eyes that never meet, and lips
Calling in vain on ears that never hear,
Shall wander all their weary days unknown
And die unsatisfied. And this is Fate.

SUSAN MARR SPALDING

Copyright, 1892, by Roberts Bros.

A

AN APPEAL

H could you see me weep in anguish sore By the sad hearth I dare not call a home, Sometimes I think, dear one, before my door Would you not come?

Could you

but guess my joy when your eyes meet
My wearied eyes in one divinest glance,
Up at my window you would look, my sweet,
As if by chance.

If to my wounded heart you knew the balm
Of sympathy, and love that has no guile,
Under my porch - a sister sweet and calm
You'd rest awhile.

Ah! darling, if you knew I loved, and how

A love so great and pure your love must win, Perhaps you'd lift the latch,

And come within!

- yes, even now,

FLORENCE HENNIKER

after Sully Prudhomme

WAIT

FORGIVE ME NOW

AIT not the morrow, but forgive me now;
Who knows what fate to-morrow's dawn may

bring?

Let us not part with shadow on thy brow,
With my heart hungering.

Wait not to-morrow, but entwine thy hand

In mine with sweet forgiveness full and free, Of all life's joys I only understand

This joy of loving thee.

Perhaps some day I may redeem the wrong,
Repair the fault - I know not when or how.
O dearest, do not wait - it may be long-
Only forgive me now.

AT YOUR GATE

Y darling, my darling, my darling,

MY

Do you know how I want you to-night? The wind passes moaning and snarling,

Like some evil ghost in its flight.

On the wet street your lamp's gleam shines redly:
You are sitting alone — did you start

As I spoke? Did you guess at the deadly
Chill pain in my heart?

- I wait.

Out here the dull rain is falling,
Just once- just a moment
Did you hear the sad voice that was calling
Your name, as I paused at the gate?
It was just a mere breath, ah, I know, dear,
Not even Love's ears could have heard;
But oh! I was hankering so, dear,

For one little word.

Do you think I am ever without you?
Ever lose for an instant your face

Or the spell that breathes always about you,
Of your subtle, ineffable grace?
Why, even to-night, put away, dear,

From the light of your eyes though I stand,
I feel as I linger and pray, dear,

The touch of your hand.

Ah me! for a word that could move you
Like a whisper of magical art!

I love you! I love you! I love you!
There is no other word in my heart.

Will your eyes that are loving, still love me?
Will your heart, once so tender, forgive?
Ah! darling, stoop down from above me,
And tell me to live.

BARTON GRAY

I

AFTER ALL!

THINK that he loved me! at least, he said

That the world could never be just the same, After the ashes lay cold and dead,

The ashes of love that were once aflame.

He said that always about my name,

Was the sweet, sad sigh of an old regret!
That life could never be quite the same,
Or quite as glad as of old - but yet
I know that somewhere he lives — ah, me!
Somewhere without me - beyond recall!
The old, sweet bondage has left him free ---
After all!

I know that I loved him! at least, I know,
That when the ashes were gray and dead,
I felt the flame of the long ago

Brighten my life to a fiery red.

He was not worthy! Ah, so they said!
Not worthy even an hour's regret!

So I told them the sweet old love was dead

Buried like other loves

but yet

Could the waters of Lethe flow - ah, me!

And cover the past beyond recall,

I know I could never again be free

After all!

G. BUTT