POETRY.

THE WIZARD'S DAUGHTER..

IT was a Wizard's Daughter that paced beside a well, And many wights passed by that way, but moist not of her spell.

It was a careless lordling rode by with loosened rein, He tossed his spear from hand to hand, and sang a blithe refrain.

Fair was the Wizard's Daughter, noble and sad of mien, She caught the slackened bridle, both suppliant and queen.

" Now, come thou down, gay-hearted, look into yon dim pool ; Be not as those that pass it by—churl, miser, witling fool."

There came to him dim memories of high and old noblesse, " Lo, I must needs behold it—this I cannot guess."

And slowly he descended, and took her chilly hand, And bent him o'er the well-head; its turbid depths he scanned.

As in the tyrant's hearing in ancient Syracuse Rose up the wail of wretches that groaned for sore misuse,

So upon this man's vision smote all the sights of woe—

All evils that earth nourishes, all plagues that mortals know.

He saw the infinite horror and blood-red filth of war; He saw the bodies of drowned men whose flesh the breakers mar.

He saw the gloom of poor men's homes, scanty of light and space ; He saw their labour cheaply sold to enlarge the rich man's place.

He saw how women toiled as beasts or plied the trade of shame; He saw the insolence of wealth; the loneliness of fame.

He saw the tortures of the beasts, the tears that children shed, All writhings of'the sick, and all the wanness of the dead.

" Now wherefore has thou shown me this, and what is thy dread name P "

"I am that Wizard's Child," she said, " Who knows whence all this came;

But I know not. One thing I know : 'tis given me to reveal This bitter well of World-sorrow to such as He may seal.

He hath sealed thee by thy merry heart, and by thine eye of truth ; They who would sweeten World-sorrow must keep the soul of youth.

Now ride thou forth ; still shalt thou see each hour what thou host seen ; On each fair pageant thou mayst gaze, .World-sorrow comes between.

And thou shalt give thy gay heart's blood to lessen mortal dole, And I shall be thy faithful bride to aid that thou mayst thole."

" If I must with thee wed, and serve World-sorrow as I may, Who art thou P—Whosoe'er thou art, think not I say thee nay."

"Have thou no fear, 0 Champion strong! thou shalt not be beguiled :

My name is Hope. And said I not I am that Wizard's Child P " M. M. PENSTONE.