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Lulled Care to sleep, bade Grief and Strife

be mute, And calmed the heart by Pain and Passion

stirred; Men called her Dryad, Zephyr, Sylvan Bird, She led them by such pleasant, tranquil

route, O'erhung with blossom-bough and trellised

fruit, To haunts where naught but dreamland

sounds are heard. To-day, you play — along that path of bliss,

Dream-sandalled, I am wooed afar, afar
To where your strains are echoed in a star
That slowly sinks beyond a crimson

crest — Play on — my soul knows nothing else but

this: The calm, the perfect calm of raptured rest.

Clarence Urmy.

ON SIVORI'S VIOLIN

A dryad's home was once the tree
From which they carved this wondrous toy,

Sappbo From Painting by W. Amberg

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