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POEMS.
WHEN THE KINGS COME.
HEN the Kings come to royal hunting-seatsTo find the royal joys of summer days,
The servants on the lofty watch-tower raise
A banner, whose swift token warning greets
The country. Threatening stern, an armed man meets
Each stranger, who, by pleasant forest-ways,
All unawares, has rambled till he strays
Too close to paths where, in the noonday heats,
The King, uncrowned, lies down to sleep. Such law
As this the human soul sets heart and face
And hand, when once its King has come. In awe,
And gladness too, all men behold what grace
Such royal presence to the eye can bring,
And how the heart and hand can guard their King.
COMING ACROSS.
VERY sail is full set, and the skyAnd the sea blaze with light,
And the moon mid her virgins glides on
As St. Ursula might;
And the throb of the pulse never stops,
In the heart of the ship,
As her measures of water and fire
She drinks down at a sip.
