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Constancy.

Phoebus now doth climb and clutch
to grasp the fleeting moon,
And reaches far o'er hill and down
Futilely until noon.
She, fickle jade, her glories spread.
To lure him from afar,
But scarcely has be won his place.
Than she, with mocking side-turned face.
Forestalls his coming car.

Yet every month, his blood on fire
With unabated zest,
The aged dupe is tricked again
To follow up the quest;
And thus has Luna led him round
From primal days to this;
But from the car he's driven in,
Have mortals caught and thriven in
The ardour of his kiss.

On earth this frolic of the god
Has, too, its counterpart,
but mortal sons more blessed are
In questing of the heart.
But if a kiss flung does go wide
And heartache follows thence—
What matter then? Love is not vain;
If thwarted, then ? still a gain,
As ripe experience.

"Terra,"

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Soon he'll be back by the lakes of Killarney,
And giving the colleens a taste of his blarney,
With Kathleen Mavourneen and also Kate Kearney,
One on each side of bould Registrar Joynt !
When he gets tired of code-words and marks,
Back to his green little island he harks,
Boycotting daily, and dancing jigs gaily,
And twirling shillelagh—

J. W. Joynt.