him was to forbid him to go into this land. There he sat on the heights
of Abraham looking down on this land."

And crying "Wolfe, Wolfe!"

* * * * *

GOLDWIRE AND POPPYSEED.

(_A Chinese Poem._)

I make a bow; and then
I seize my brush (or pen)
And paint in hues enamel-bright
Scenes of Cathay for your delight.

Two buzzards by a stream,
So still that they might seem
Part of a carving wrought in bone
To decorate a royal throne.

Two lovers by a mill,
A picture sweeter still:
Will Chen-ki-Tong in this pursuit
Evade Pa-pa's avenging boot?

Lotus and mirror-lake
Æsthetic contact make;
No interfering dragon wags
His tail across their travelling bags.