H

HARRISON S. MORRIS.

ARRISON S. MORRIS was born in Philadelphia in 1856, and almost before he had come to years of manhood, gave evidence of that strong poetic sense which has since been a large factor in his life. The Centennial Exhibition of 1876, which did so much to enlarge American ideas, affected Mr. Morris' imagination powerfully, and in the descriptive letters which he contributed to the press at that time may be noted the beginnings of the pictorial power afterwards so finely developed in his verse. Mr. Morris' verse, at first fragmentary, soon attracted attention; it had in it that vital breath of Nature and the testimony of keen delight in her outward manifestations which must ever find an echo in the hearts of humanity; and when in 1883, in conjunction with a literary friend, he published a slender volume with the title: "A Duet in Lyrics," the quality of his verse was felt to be fine in both thought and execution. In common with some of the loftiest of recent poets, Mr. Morris has fallen under the spell of Keats, but though he has absorbed the spirit of that master through the years of loving study which he has given to him, he has retained a strong individuality; his note is distinctly his own, and the felicities of expression with which the reader of his poetry is continually struck are found upon analysis to be the outcome of a wholly original inspiration.

The symbolism of Nature appeals strongly to Mr. Morris, and its expression is frequently recurrent in his work, which, though inspired by something deeper and better than a mere desire for metrical correctness, shows a high degree of outward polish and the carefullest craftsmanship. This external finish is especially noticeable in the old French forms into which, in his lighter moods, he has occasionally wandered.

Mr. Morris is identified with all that is best in the intellectual life of Philadelphia. He is a member of that literary coterie which is gradually restoring to the city its lost prestige, and to none more than to him may the friends of a true culture look with an abiding confidence. F. H. W.

So to feel the meaning clear
Of thy voiceless atmosphere.
Is thy message of a birth
Bubbling at the rim of earth-
Held like beaded glass by thee
That it mantle steadily?
Mayhap, Winter, it is thou
Makest roses bud and blow;
Makest leafage and all shades
In the ancient chestnut glades;
Makest laughter on our lips
And the dew at crocus tips,
Mayhap spring and summer go
Like the glacier streams which flow
Down the ice to osier green
Forth from thee that art unseen-
Yet art like a god who gives
Letting none know where he lives.

Of old each earthly thing of price
Clustered was in Paradise,
Whence the green flowed o'er the earth
Like a vernal billow-birth;
And the tender, rounded fruits
Rolled away from leafy shoots;
So, engirt with bastioned snows,
Verdure out of Winter flows;
So in Winter's spirit lie
Potencies of sun and sky.

MATER AUCTUMNA.

WHAT of thy sorrows, mother! Are not these

Fruition of thy reign:

Thy lusty garners, heaped about thy knees,

Of corn and russet grain;

Thy fatted flocks at nibble in the leas;

Thy creaking harvest wain?

What of thy sorrows that the blowing trees Interpret into pain?

What memory hovers in thy matron eyes
And touches out the tears?

What thought of music in the warmed skies;
And hope of sweet, young years,
That grew to youth in leafy panoplies,
And laughed at later fears

Then withered in the valleys, echo-wise,
And slept on Autumn biers?

I hear thy sorrow, mother! In the breeze It sings an under-psalm;

Deep-toned, it murmurs in the melodies That bubble by the dam;

Μ'

KATE VANNAH.

ISS LETITIA KATHERINE VANNAH was born in Gardiner, Maine, October 27, 1855. She is the daughter, and only child, of I. G. Vannah and wife, of Gardiner, and is of German and Irish extraction. Her paternal ancestors lived in Saxony, where they bore the name Werner. After passing through the grammar and high schools of her home town, she attended St. Joseph's Academy, at Emmittsburg, (ten miles from Gettysburg,) Md., graduating in 1874, and taking the first medal in English class and in music. She was fond of writing and memorizing poems at a very early age; but her first production of verse of importance was the "Farewell" of her graduating class, written at seventeen. While at Emmittsburg, she wrote in prose and verse for several periodicals; and on returning to Gardiner she began to write often for Boston, New York and Washington newspapers, as well as for those of her own state. She has since been engaged regularly in literary work, having made a specialty of poetry, a volume of which, containing about seventy pieces, she issued under the name of "Verses," in 1883; her principal work, however, has been in music, which, she says, is "the dominant power and pleasure" in her life. After graduation from St. Joseph's, she studied music with Ernst Perabo. She is mistress of the piano and organ. Her musical compositions, "Come-For the Sun is Going Down," "Three Roses," "O Salutaris" "Veni Creator" and "Parting” are most widely known, and have been very popular and remunerative. For many years she has contributed musical criticism to several Maine newspapers. Her pen has been most busy, latterly, however, with verse-matter and personal sketches; several of the latter, as well as occasional literary criticisms and poems, having appeared in the Boston Evening Traveller. Miss Vannah is a person of remarkable variety of accomplishments; besides being versed in English and American literature, and cultured musically, she is a notable French scholar, and a respectable artist. She is throughly interested in life, and with the highest standards of love and duty. In religion she is a Roman Catholic. Those best acquainted with her, however, know her to be first of all a Christian. In friendship her ardor and devotion are remarkable. E. R. C.

INDIAN SUMMER.

WE saw the happy robins build their nests,
We watched the apple-blossoms bloom and fall,
Together knelt, and searched for violets-
Counted the petals of the Marguerites;
Kissed, each, a rose and wore it on his heart-