SELECT POETRY

-And now a gallant tomb they raise,

With costly sculpture deckt ;
And marbles, storied! with his praise
Poor Gelert’s bones protect.

Here never could the spearman pass,
Or forester, unmoved ;

Here oft the tear-besprinkled grass
Llewellyn’s sorrow proved.

And here he hung his horn and spear,

And oft, as evening fell,
In fancy’s piercing sounds would hear
Poor Gelert’s dying yell!
W. Spenser.

TO A WASP.

WineEp wanderer of the sky,
From your wonted path on high,
With your fearful dragon trail,
Crested head, and coat of mail,
Why do you my peace molest ?
Why do you disturb my rest?
While the sunny meads are seen
Deckt with purest white and green ;
And the gardens and the bowers,
And the forests and the flowers,
Don their robes of various dye,
Blending fitly to the eye ;—

Did J chase you in your flight ?
Did J put you in a fright?

1 Storied—engraved, or written over.