21 SEPTEMBER 1872, Page 16

SONNET.

THE laughing children playing on the shore Heed nothing but their sport ; the boundless sky, The ocean that with languid waves doth sigh Or hurls its thunder with a wild uproar, The rocks and shadowing cliffs, are seen no more,.

While eagerly with little spades they try To build their mimic castles firm and high, Or make deep trenches on their sandy floor.

And we, grown men, with age and knowledge blest, Scarce mark God's face in earth and heaven and sea. Scarce hear God's voice, for all we are so wise,—

By self-made cares and anxious toil opprest ; Thoughtless, but not from childhood's simple glee, Nor dazzled with the light in youthful eyes.

Joint DENNIS.