The Barrel-Organ

that listens to the voices of the dead

he sun sinks low;

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ins to tremble and his face is rather red
er watching him and there he turns his

he sunset where his April love is fled, softly singing and his lonely soul is led and where the dead dreams go.

nd hardened demi-rep, it's ringing in her

the sun sinks low;

d empty sorrow of the love that blights and

hurries onward, then be sure, be sure she

the bitter burden of the unforgotten years, a little harsher and her eyes are brimmed

where the dead dreams go.

-organ carolling across a golden street s the sun sinks low;

sic's only Verdi there's a world to make it

yellow sunset where the earth and heaven

sooty City! Hark, a hundred thousand feet n to glory through the poppies and the wheat where the dead dreams go.

o it's Jeremiah, Jeremiah,

What have you to say
When you meet the garland girls
Tripping on their way?

ll around my gala hat
I wear a wreath of roses
A long and lonely year it is
I've waited for the May!)

If any one should ask you,

The reason why I wear it is

My own love, my true love is coming home to-day.

And it's buy a bunch of violets for the lady

(It's lilac-time in London; it's lilac-time in London !) Buy a bunch of violets for the lady;

While the sky burns blue above:

On the other side the street you'll find it shady
(It's lilac-time in London; it's lilac-time in London !)
But buy a bunch of violets for the lady,

And tell her she's your own true love.

There's a barrel-organ carolling across a golden street
In the City as the suns sinks glittering and slow;
And the music's not immortal; but the world has made it

sweet

And enriched it with the harmonies that make a song com

plete

In the deeper heavens of music where the night and morning

meet,

As it dies into the sunset glow;

And it pulses through the pleasures of the City and the pain
That surround the singing organ like a large eternal light,
And they've given it a glory and a part to play again
In the Symphony that rules the day and night.

And there, as the music changes,

The song runs round again;
Once more it turns and ranges
Through all its joy and pain:
Dissects the common carnival
Of passions and regrets;

And the wheeling world remembers all
The wheeling song forgets.

Once more La Traviata sighs
Another sadder song:

Once more Il Trovatore cries

A tale of deeper wrong;

Amantium Iræ

ore the knights to battle go
sword and shield and lance,
e, once more, the shattered foe
whirled into a dance!

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w in lilac-time, in lilac-time, in lilac-time; w in lilac-time (it isn't far from London !) ander hand in hand with Love in summer's

w in lilac-time (it isn't far from London !) Alfred Noyes [1880

AMANTIUM IRÆ

om "The Paradise of Dainty Devices"

naked bed, as one that would have slept, ng to her child, that long before had wept. and sang full sweet to bring the babe to

cease, but crièd still, in sucking at her

ry of her watch, and grievèd with her child; nd rated it, till that on her it smiled. y, "Now have I found this proverb true to

f faithful friends, renewing is of iove."

Der, pen, and ink, this proverb for to write, ■ remain of such a worthy wight.

d thus in song unto her little brat ttered she of weight, in place whereas she

n there was no beast, nor creature bearing

nown to live in love, without discord and

her little babe, and sware, by God above, f faithful friends, renewing is of love.

She said that neither king, nor prince, nor lord could live aright,

Until their puissance they did prove, their manhood, and

their might,

When manhood shall be matched so, that fear can take no place,

Then weary works make warriors each other to embrace, And leave their force that failed them; which did consume

the rout

That might before have lived their time, their strength and nature out.

Then did she sing, as one that thought no man could her

reprove,

The falling out of faithful friends, renewing is of love.

She said she saw no fish, nor fowl, nor beast within her haunt

That met a stranger in their kind, but could give it a taunt. Since flesh might not endure, but rest must wrath succeed, And force the fight to fall to play, in pasture where they feed,

So noble Nature can well end the work she hath begun; And bridle well that will not cease her tragedy in some. Thus in her song she oft rehearsed, as did her well behove, The falling out of faithful friends, renewing is of love.

"I marvel much, pardy," quoth she, "for to behold the rout,

To see man, woman, boy, and beast, to toss the world about; Some kneel, some crouch, some beck, some check, and some can smoothly smile,

And some embrace others in arms, and there think many a

wile.

Some stand aloof at cap and knee, some humble, and some stout,

Yet are they never friends in deed, until they once fall out." Thus ended she her song, and said before she did remove, "The falling out of faithful friends, renewing is of love." Richard Edwards [1523?-1566]

how vain! On, onward strain,
arks! In light, in darkness too,
winds and tides one compass guides—

and your own selves, be true.

the breeze! and O great seas,

ne'er, that earliest parting past,

wide plain they join again, er lead them home at last.

, methought, alike they sought,
rpose hold where'er they fare,—
ng breeze, O rushing seas!
at last, unite them there!

Arthur Hugh Clough [1819-1861]