"And ere they are dulled," another spoke, "The Hyacinth bells shall ring."

And the violet only murmured, "I'm here,"

And sweet grew the breath of spring.

Then, "Ha! ha! ha!" a chorus came Of laughter soft and low From the millions of flowers under the ground-- Yes--millions--beginning to grow.

Oh, the pretty, brave things! through the coldest days, Imprisoned in walls of brown, They never lost heart though the blast shriek loud, And the sleet and the hail came down, But patiently each wrought her beautiful dress, Or fashioned her beautiful crown; And now they are coming to brighten the world, Still shadowed by winter's frown; And well may they cheerily laugh, "Ha! ha!"

In a chorus soft and low, The millions of flowers hid under the ground-- Yes--millions--beginning to grow.

CAVALIER TUNES.

1. GIVE A ROUSE.

King Charles, and who'll do him right now?

King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?

Give a rouse: here's, in h.e.l.l's despite now, King Charles!

Who gave me the goods that went since?

Who raised me the house that sank once?

Who helped me to gold I spent since?

Who found me in wine you drank once?

_Cho_. King Charles, and who'll do him right now?

King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?

Give a rouse: here's, in h.e.l.l's despite now, King Charles!

To whom used my boy George quaff else, By the old fool's side that begot him?

For whom did he cheer and laugh else, While Noll's d.a.m.ned troopers shot him.

_Cho_. King Charles, and who'll do him right now?

King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?

Give a rouse: here's, in h.e.l.l's despite now, King Charles!

II. BOOT AND SADDLE.

Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!

Rescue my castle before the hot day Brightens to blue from its silvery gray.

_Cho_. Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!

Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say; Many's the friend there, will listen and pray "G.o.d's luck to gallants that strike up the lay!"

_Cho_. Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!

Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay, Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundhead's array: Who laughs, "Good fellows ere this, by my fay,

_Cho_. Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"

Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay, Laughs when you talk of surrendering, "Nay!

I've better counsellors; what counsel they?

_Cho_. Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"

ROBERT BROWNING.

ACROSS THE FIELDS TO ANNE.

From Stratford-on-Avon a lane runs westward through the fields a mile to the little village of Shottery, in which is the cottage of Anne Hathaway, Shakespeare's sweetheart and wife.

How often in the summer tide, His graver business set aside, Has stripling Will, the thoughtful-eyed, As to the pipe of Pan Stepped blithsomely with lover's pride Across the fields to Anne!

It must have been a merry mile, This summer-stroll by hedge and stile, With sweet foreknowledge all the while How sure the pathway ran To dear delights of kiss and smile, Across the fields to Anne.

The silly sheep that graze to-day, I wot, they let him go his way, Nor once looked up, as who should say: "It is a seemly man."

For many lads went wooing aye Across the fields to Anne.

The oaks, they have a wiser look; Mayhap they whispered to the brook: "The world by him shall yet be shook, It is in nature's plan; Though now he fleets like any rook Across the fields to Anne."

And I am sure, that on some hour Coquetting soft 'twixt sun and shower, He stooped and broke a daisy-flower With heart of tiny span, And bore it as a lover's dower Across the fields to Anne.

While from her cottage garden-bed She plucked a jasmine's goodlihede, To scent his jerkin's brown instead; Now since that love began, What luckier swain than he who sped Across the fields to Anne?

The winding path wheron I pace, The hedgerows green, the summer's grace, Are still before me face to face; Methinks I almost can Turn poet and join the singing race Across the fields to Anne!

RICHARD BURTON.

GREEN THINGS GROWING.

The green things growing, the green things growing, The faint sweet smell of the green things growing!

I should like to live, whether I smile or grieve, Just to watch the happy life of my green things growing.