There's a magical isle up the river of Time,
Where the softest of airs are playing;
There's a cloudless sky and a tropical clime,
And a song as sweet as a vesper chime,

And the Junes with the roses are staying.

And the name of that isle is the Long Ago,
And we bury our treasures there;

There are brows of beauty and bosoms of snow—
There are heaps of dust-but we loved them so—
There are trinkets and tresses of hair;

There are fragments of song that nobody sings,
And a part of an infant's prayer;

There's a lute unswept, and a harp without strings; There are broken vows and pieces of rings,

And the garments she used to wear.

There are hands that are waved when the fairy shore By the mirage is lifted in air;

And we sometimes hear, through the turbulent roar, Sweet voices we heard in the days gone before, When the wind down the river is fair.

Oh, remembered for aye be the blessed Isle
All the day of our life till night-

When the evening comes with its beautiful smile,
And our eyes are closing to slumber awhile,
May that "Greenwood" of Soul be in sight!

SUGGESTIVE EXERCISES

1. Give as many reasons as you can why time is so often

alluded to as a river.

2. What is a "realm of tears"?

3. A "faultless rhythm"?

4. What do you see in your mind's eye when you read of the "boundless sweep" of this river?

5. What is "a surge sublime"?

6. What forms the shadow and sheen along the river's course? 7. What is a magical isle?

8. Is the verb playing in line 12, active or passive?

9. Do you understand that there is but one song in this isle? 10. Why should the Long Ago be an isle in the river?

11. What are the "heaps of dust" mentioned in line 19?

12. How can a song that nobody sings be a treasure?

13. A harp without strings?

14. A broken vow?

15. Why are the rings in pieces?

16. What is a mirage?

17. What has the author been doing in the first six stanzas? 18. What has been its effect upon him?

19. Why does he exhort us to remember for aye this isle? 20. What is the beautiful smile of evening?

21. How does the author think of death?

22. What only can make this view possible?

REFERENCES

PROCTER: The Lost Chord. A Doubting Heart.
BROWNING: Abt Vogler. Rabbi Ben Ezra.

COSMO MUNKHOUSE: A Dead March.

MINOT JUDSON SAVAGE: Mystery.

MARSTON: After Many Days.

THOMAS MOORE: The Last Rose of Summer. The Light of Other Days. As Slow Our Ship. Love's Young Dream.

LOUIS CHANDLER MOULTON: Come Back, Dear Days.

RILEY: The Song I Never Sing.

STODDARD: It Never Comes Again.

TENNYSON: Tears, Idle Tears.

WILHELM MUELLER: The Sunken City.

RYAN: Song of the Mystic.

The union of lakes, the union of lands,
The union of States none can sever,
The union of hearts, the union of hands,
And the flag of our Union forever!

-George P. Morris.

THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS

A

MRS. FELICIA HEMANS

SMALL congregation of Separatists, a radical branch of the Puritans who rebelled against the Established Church of England, succeeded (1608) in escaping from England to Holland to avoid the wrath of James I. They endured severe hardships in Holland for twelve years, and finally they decided to go to America where "they hoped to build up a strong, prosperous English colony, enjoying entire liberty of worship and advancing the gospel in those remote parts of the world." A band of less than a hundred Pilgrims sailed for America in the Mayflower and, after carefully exploring the Massachusetts coast, landed December 21, 1620, in what has since been known as Plymouth harbor. The rock on which they landed is still proudly shown the traveler as he visits the historic scenes at Plymouth.

To one who has visited Plymouth with its rocky shores and forest-covered hills, the opening picture of the poem is wonderfully vivid. To one who has read the history of the hardships endured, and the obstacles met and overcome by the Pilgrim Fathers, the remaining stanzas are a triumph-song. Mrs. Hemans was English by birth and primarily English in sympathy, but this spectacle of true heroism fired her English heart and she sang this exquisite song to the English speaking people when England's pride was still sorely irritated from a second

defeat at the hands of the descendants of these indomit

able colonists.

THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS

The breaking waves dashed high

On a stern and rock-bound coast,

And the woods against a stormy sky
Their giant branches tossed;

And the heavy night hung dark,

The hills and waters o'er,

When a band of exiles moored their bark
On the wild New England shore.

Not as the conqueror comes,
They, the true-hearted, came;

Not with the roll of the stirring drums,
And the trumpet that sings of fame;

Not as the flying come,

In silence and in fear;

They shook the depths of the desert gloom
With their hymns of lofty cheer.

Amidst the storm they sang,

And the stars heard, and the sea;

And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang

To the anthem of the free!

The ocean eagle soared

From his nest by the white wave's foam; And the rocking pines of the forest roared This was their welcome home!

What sought they thus afar?

Bright jewels of the mine?

The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? -
They sought a faith's pure shrine!