" Irrepressible, Liane's laughter pealed; and though he couldn't help smiling, Lanyard hastened to offer up himself on the altar of peace.

There is no blush upon my brow, though tears Are in mine eyes, and sorrow in my heart; This sobbing breast heaves not with traitor fears: No sighs for sin are these that sadly start, And bear their bitter burden to thine ears.

And though my woman's strength bend like a reed Before the flowing of Affliction's river, Not, not for shame, nor for one strumpet deed Doth this weak frame bow down, or faintly quiver, As I stand forth alone in deadly need.

No! before thee, Filippo, and the world, Cased in its petty panoply of scorn, With myriad slavish lips in mocking curl'd, Spotless and innocent, though most forlorn, Here stand I, 'gainst the shafts Falsehood hath hurl'd.

Earth groweth little in our eyes, but fair, Fair as though sin had never enter'd there Earth groweth little as Heaven draweth near.

And, though the stream be swift, a steady heart And stalwart arm shall quell its cold dark waves.

Through the calm and silent air Floats the tolling funeral bell, Swooning over hill and dell, Heavy laden with despair; Mute between each muffled stroke, Sad as though a dead voice spoke, Out of the dim Past time spoke, Stands my heart all mute with care.

yetfor though she speaks not From her Paradise in thee, Whispers nevermore to me

we should speak low Where Death is, though no sound can ever wake Those whom he cradles in his bony arms.

my son, the bud though ne'er so close It fold the fragrant treasure of its youth, Is by the nip of Winter shorn betimes.

Though Death should grimly stalk into the house, And stand beside the slumber of a child, Think you that gazing on its mimic self, Sleep, beautiful and wondrous, in the crib, His owlish thoughts would not wing suddenly, Through cycles of decay, back to the time When he was one with Sleep, and passing fair; Think you he would not sigh, "Sleep, on!

Or roll the golden sands of day away, And never more the voice of my despair Trickles among them o'er thine unmoved ear, Though every grove doth multiply the sound, And all the land sigh forth "Eurydice"?

They pretended to look for Snubby Nose and Tippy Toes, though they knew they had gone away.

Doctor Cotton-Tail jumped out from under the merry-go-round and said, "A-riding, too, I'd like to go, Though I may take a nap or so.

"Why did you leave me, Ruth?" answered a manly voice in a tone of surprise, though the small hand slipping from the velvet coat-sleeve was replaced as if it was pleasant to feel it there.

It isn't that I am too proud,and you're right about my sometimes wanting to free my mind,but it's because a man of forty don't just like to open out to young fellows, if there is any danger of their laughing at him, though he may deserve it.

"I was always a soft-hearted fellow, though you wouldn't think it now, and when that little girl asked me to keep her safe, I just did it.

" "Show us her picture; I know you've got one; all the fellows have, though half of 'em won't own up.

" From an inner pocket Thorn produced a woman's housewife, carefully untied it, though all its implements were missing but a little thimble, and from one of its compartments took a flattened bullet and the remnants of a picture.

Cousin Siah, as we called Josiah, didn't cotton tew the old woman, though he did tew her cash; but we hitched along fust-rate.

I didn't find that as hard a nub to swaller, as I'd a thought I would, though Almiry was the richest, pootiest, and good-naterest of the lot.

A kind old Quaker found and took me home; but though I was too weak to talk, I had my senses by that time, and knew what went on about me.

On reaching Biebrich, tired and hungry, at nightfall, everything was ready for them, and all went to bed praising Karl, the courier, though Amy, with unusual prudence, added, "He is a new broom now; let us wait a little before we judge.

She saw that, and added gratefully, "I do not forget that you saved my life, though you seem to have done so.

Their gratitude and relief were intense when Helen appeared next morning, with the faithful Hoffman still at his post, though no longer able to disguise the fact that he was suffering from his wound.