The Arrow and the Song,” by Longfellow (1807-82), is placed first in this volume out of respect to a little girl of six years who used to love to recite it to me. She knew many poems, but this was her favourite.

I shot an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For who has sight so keen and strong That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend.

HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.

THE BABIE.

I found “The Babie” in Stedman’s “Anthology.” It is placed in this volume by permission of the poet, Jeremiah Eames Rankin, of Cleveland (1828-), because it captured the heart of a ten-year-old boy whose fancy was greatly moved by the two beautiful lines:

“Her face is like an angel’s face, I’m glad she has no wings.”

Nae shoon to hide her tiny taes, Nae stockin’ on her feet; Her supple ankles white as snaw, Or early blossoms sweet.

Her simple dress o’ sprinkled pink, Her double, dimplit chin, Her puckered lips, and baumy mou’, With na ane tooth within.

Her een sae like her mither’s een, Twa gentle, liquid things; Her face is like an angel’s face: We’re glad she has nae wings.

JEREMIAH EAMES RANKIN.

LET DOGS DELIGHT TO BARK AND BITE.

“Let Dogs Delight to Bark and Bite,” by Isaac Watts (1674-1748), and “Little Drops of Water,” by Ebenezer Cobham Brewer (1810-97), are poems that the world cannot outgrow. Once in the mind, they fasten. They were not born to die.