QUAKERDOM. THE FORMAL CALL. THROUGH her forced, abnormal quiet Flashed the soul of frolic riot, When the noonday woods are ringing, All the birds of summer singing, Suddenly there falls a silence, and we know a serpent nigh: So upon the door a rattle Stopped our animated tattle, And a most malicious laughter lighted up her And the stately mother found us prim enough to downcast eyes; All in vain I tried each topic, Ranged from polar climes to tropic, Every commonplace I started met with yes-or no replies. suit her eye. CHARLES G. HALPINE. THE CHESS-BOARD, My little love, do you remember, Ere we were grown so sadly wise, Those evenings in the bleak December, Curtained warm from the snowy weather, When you and I played chess together, Checkmated by each other's eyes? Ah! still I see your soft white hand Hovering warm o'er Queen and Knight; Brave Pawns in valiant battle stand; The double Castles guard the wings; The Bishop, bent on distant things, Moves, sidling, through the fight. Our fingers touch; our glances meet, And falter; falls your golden hair Against my cheek; your bosom sweet Is heaving. Down the field, your Queen Rides slow, her soldiery all between, And checks me unaware. Ah me! the little battle's done : Disperst is all its chivalry. Full many a move since then have we Mid life's perplexing checkers made, And many a game with fortune played; What is it we have won? This, this at least, if this alone: That never, never, nevermore, And eyes exchanging warmth with eyes, Play chess, as then we played together. ROBERT BULWER LYTTON WHEN YOUR BEAUTY APPEARS. "WHEN your beauty appears, All bright as an angel new dropt from the skies |