If hand in hand they sally forth,
East or west, or south or north,
Naught can stay them
Nor delay them.
Slaves not they of space or time
In their journeyings sublime.
LOVE, ART, AND TIME
ON A PICTURE ENTITLED "THE PORTRAIT," BY WILL H. LOW
Sweet Grecian girl who on the sunbright wall
Tracest the outline of thy lover's shade,
While, on the dial near, Time's hand is laid
With silent motion—fearest thou, then, all?
How that one day the light shall cease to fall
On him who is thy light; how lost, dismayed,—
By Time, and Time's pale comrade Death, betrayed,—
Thou shalt breathe on beneath the all-shadowing pall!
Love, Art, and Time, these are the triple powers
That rule the world, and shall for many a morrow—
Love that beseecheth Art to conquer Time!
Bright is the picture, but, O fading flowers!
O youth that passes! love that bringeth sorrow!—
Bright is the picture; sad the poet's rhyme.
THE DANCERS
ON A PICTURE ENTITLED "SUMMER," BY T. W. DEWING
Behold these maidens in a row
Against the birches' freshening green;
Their lines like music sway and flow;
They move before the emerald screen
