If of all words of tongue and pen, The saddest are, "It might have been," More sad are these we daily see: "It is, but hadn't ought to be !"

There was a battle fought of wonders,
Yet was the slaughter small,
The strife was, whether I should write,
Or send nothing at all.
Of one side were the captains' names
Short Time and Little Skill;
One fought alone against them both,
Whose name was Great Good-will.
Short Time enforced me in a strait,
And bade me hold my hand;
Small Skill also withstood desire
My writing to withstand.
But Great Good-will, in show though small,
To write encouraged me,
And to the battle' held on still,
No commond thing to see.

Thou swell !
Thou witty !
Thou sweet !
Thou grand !
Wouldst kiss me pretty ?
Wouldst hold my hand ?
But, I have non...