Song of the Dead in the West, in the barrens, 

 the waste that betrayed them, 



When the wolverene tumbles their packs from 

 the camp and the grave-mound they made 

 them. 



And these lines of Mrs. Browning : — 



Dead, one of them dead by the sea in the 

 East, 

 And one of them dead in the West by the 

 sea; 

 Dead both of my boys, and ye sit at your feast. 

 And you want a new song for your Italy 

 free, — 

 Let none look at me ! 



In the stately "Ave Imperatrix** of Oscar 

 Wilde there are very noble lineswhich ought 

 not to be forgotten, whatever our feeling to- 

 ward the wretched life of their author : — 



Set in this stormy northern sea, 



Queen of these restless fields of tide, 



England ! what shall men say of thee^ 

 Before whose feet the worlds divide? 



The earth, a brittle globe of glass, 

 Lies in the hollow of thy hand. 



And through its heart of crystal pass. 

 Like shadows through a twilight land, 



The 



Human 



Harvest 



A'ue 



Impera- 



trix 



[93] 



