UNFLEDGED.

Kisses and welcome you'll find here before you,

And the oftener you come here the more I'll adore you!
Light is my heart since the day we were plighted ;
Red is my cheek, that they told me was blighted ;
The green of the trees looks far greener than ever,
And the linnets are singing "True lovers don't sever!"

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:

THE ROYAL GUEST.

What is it we have won ?

This, this at least if this alone:
That never, never, nevermore,

As in those old still nights of yore,
(Ere we were grown so sadly wise,)
Can you and I shut out the skies,
Shut out the world, and wintry weather,
And eyes exchanging warmth with eyes,
Play chess, as then we played together!

ROBERT BULWER LYTTON.

THE ROYAL GUEST.

THEY tell me I am shrewd with other men;
With thee I'm slow, and difficult of speech.
With others I may guide the car of talk;
Thou wing'st it oft to realms beyond my reach.

If other guests should come, I'd deck my hair,
And choose my newest garment from the shelf;
When thou art bidden, I would clothe my heart
With holiest purpose, as for God himself.

For them I while the hours with tale or song,
Or web of fancy, fringed with careless rhyme ;
But how to find a fitting lay for thee,
Who hast the harmonies of every time?

ALL'S WELL.

O friend beloved! I sit apart and dumb,
Sometimes in sorrow, oft in joy divine;

My lip will falter, but my prisoned heart
Springs forth to measure its faint pulse with thine.

Thou art to me most like a royal guest,

Whose travels bring him to some lowly roof
Where simple rustics spread their festal fare

And, blushing, own it is not good enough.

Bethink thee then, whene'er thou com'st to me

From high emprise and noble toil to rest,

My thoughts are weak and trivial, matched with thine; But the poor mansion offers thee its best.

JULIA WARD HOWE.

ALL'S WELL.

"ALL'S WELI.! - How the musical sound Smites, surge-like, the slumbering ear,

As the sentinel paces his round,

And carols his tidings of cheer!
Half-startled, the soldier awakes,
Recalling his senses that roam :
'Tis only a moment it breaks

On the dream he was dreaming of home:

"All's Well!"

ALL'S WELL.

"All's Well!" -Through the lengthening lines
Each sentry re-echoes the word,
And faintly yon forest of pines

With dreamy responses is stirred:
On the marge of the nebulous night,
A wavy, reiterate sigh,

It ripples, then vanishes quite

In the infinite deeps of the sky:

"All's Well!"

"All's Well!" In the warfare of life

Does my soul like a sentinel stand, Prepared to encounter the strife,

With well burnished weapon in hand? While the senses securely repose,

And doubt and temptation have room,

Does the keen ear of conscience unclose?

Does she listen, and catch through the gloom :

"All's Well?"

"All's Well!" Can I echo the word?

Does faith with a sleepless control

Bid the peaceful assurance be heard

In the questionless depths of my soul? Then fear not, frail heart! when the scars

Of the brave-foughten combat are past,

Clear voices that fall from the stars

Will quiet thee on to the last:

"All's Well !"

MARGARET J. PRESTON.