3 JULY 1897, Page 26

POETRY.

THE CAPTIVE'S DREAM. FROM birth we have his captives been : For freedom, vain to strive !

This is our chamber: windows five Look forth on his demesne; And each to its own several hue Translates the outward scene.

We cannot once the landscape view Save with the painted panes between.

Ah, if there be indeed Beyond one darksome door a secret stair, That, winding to the battlements, shall lead Hence to pure light, free air !

This is the master hope, or the supreme despair.

WILLIAM WATSON.