... . (Vide the Last Number of The Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News.) No butterfly yachtsmen are we, Who spread our white wings to the breeze. In the sweet, balmy days of the spring, Or glide o'er the calm, summer seas; But through autumn and winter, please know, That our craft in commission we keep, Tho' Boreas may bluster and blow, ill our saucy ten-tonner we sleep. The Petrel, well-named, ...

... THE LAYS OF THE DECCAN HUNT, ONE MISSING. RY SIR CHARLES ll'oYLEY. The hunter rose up at the first dawn of day He has mounted his steed and has galloped away, With pride in his heart, and wi -h fire in his eye, As lie thinks 011 the dangers his courage to try And feels a bold spirit and nerve-strung arm Will carry him safely through every harm. To the deep ravine he gives not a thought The ...

... OH, Valentine, Saint of all Saints, we implore thee, To all of thy worshippers grant all they crave, That double rap, longed for by all who adore thee, That earliest of posts on thy d ...

... Come, sweet Spring, once more, and wake The flowers Irom their sleep of gloom For snowdrops long from thee to take Their leave to live again in bloom, To swing once more in southern gales, That ...

... . The wood sways and rocks in the fierce Equinox, The old heathen war-god hears rule in the sky, Aslant down the street drives the pitiless sleet, At the height of the housetops the eloud-raclc spins by. Old Boreas may bluster, but gaily we'll muster, And crowd every nook on bridge, steam-boat, and shore, With cheering to greet Cam, and Isis, who meet For the Derby of boating, our fete of the ...

... . Away with your beef and your mutton Avaunt with your capers and sauee For beefsteaks I don't care a button, Veal-cutlets I count them as dross Lamb-stew, cliicken-salad, don't mention With my stomach roast pig don't agree, From such messes I practise abstention Earinacea 's the forage for me 0 bring me the fruits of the garden, Grapes, apples, plums, pears, and such ilk Cream, skimmed by ...

... The Lily of the North is fair, And fair is England's Rose For both a separate sweetness wear Of richness and repose. Wives of the heirs of great domains, And blest all brides above, Since ...

... WHO Who likes his name, his features, or his lot, Who values his own gifts, howe'er endow'd, And oft with vain repining envies not Now this, now that, one singled from the crowd? Who that has thirsted ...

... FAREWELL GOD SPEED Northward Old England points her sons once more Earth's crowning gem is at her heart again Farewells are rising to each lip, and thronging to the shore Hoard them, ye gallant men Fa ...

... SOMEWHERE away in the Arctic Sea The Ice-King holds his state; A despot mighty and grim is he, With the Snow-Queen for his mate. They live in a palace hewn of ice, Pinnacled high in air, ...

... It was the time when roses blow, The sweetest time in all the year 'Twas when the sun was red and low, And when the skies were warm and clear, I met a maiden by the gate That led into ...

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