28 SEPTEMBER 1872, Page 17

POETRY.

Of hopeless craving for a long-sought rest ; Hurrying along, as if it too could know The wish for shelter for a heart opprest. And then a milder strain ; the soft sweet notes Lingering, trembling, breathing purer air— A body of sweet sound that gaily floats High o'er the now subdued, now lost despair— Again it comes ! with milder, greater might, As if it were a soul for ever lost. M. E. It.