September 29th. WHEN lords and ladies went to hunt together, The Countess swore he was a learned man; DEAR Maiden of the shy and eager face September 30th. THE worst of miseries Is when a nature framed for noblest things FLUSHED with youth her looks impart Each fine feeling as it flows, Her voice the echo of her heart Pure as the mountain snows. Praed. William Allingham. George Eliot. Rogers. October 1st. VIL comes and evil goes, But it moves me never; For the Good, the Good, it grows, Winter still succeeds to Spring, But fresh Springs are coming. Brighter bees are humming. FAIR to the eye, as in her grace most rare, W. M. W. Call Theodore Martin, from Goethe. |