NEW NAME.

Who prizes Literature? All sorts and sizes
Of literary wares now hang on "prizes."
'Tis not prose fictionists or poem-spinners
The public rush for; no, 'tis "all the winners!"
Letters in lotteries find support most sure--
Let us be frank, and call them _Lottery_ture!

* * * * *

SUITOR RESARTUS.

_A SENTIMENTAL DILEMMA._

[Illustration]

How can I woo you in this ancient suit?
You do not notice it, of course; I know it.
My soul is burdened with a shapeless boot,
Your heart is singing welcome to your poet.
Here in the shadowy settle I can sit
And sparkle with you, brightly confidential,
But when into the lamp-bright zone you flit,
I shrink into some corner penitential.
A well-dressed crowd, their tailors all unpaid,
Throng round you there, and cuffs and collars glisten;
Of pity's blindness, as of scorn, afraid,
I shun the merry fray, and darkling listen,