POETR ".
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Tine following beautiful verses were written by tra. weller in an album little Inn at Zurich. The of the writer is uBknown. but he is decidedly poet.

 A SWISS DAY. Iris Dawn, lovely Dawni aud the sky is all white, he cattle n e.ie or lowing And the lake lies In vapor half morning half night, And the breeze through the tops of the pine is

 blowing;

 And the vineyards shaking dew from their leaves And down the valley the village roots shine And the doves all rusting their wings in the And the Earth and The Heaven cool, lovely, di-

 vine.

 'Tis Morning, rich ssiofnias ;Ee yase-= en., And the rifles are ringing from valley to hill; But the rises broad and the horn and the shont Sink down, till we hear but the sound of the rill And far up the mountain, the reebucks' brown troop Are seen, with their nostrls spread wide to the wind While the eagle above spreads his wings for swoops And the yagers toll through the forest behind. 'Tis Noon burning Noonr and the far village spire And the peaks Of the mountains arrows of fiame And the air Is fever, the sunbeam q fire, And the deer, like the hunter, are weary and tame; And the yagers by fountain and pine are spread. Where the smoke of their meal eddies gP through the

 trees

 And the shepherd is slumberng in chalet and shed, And the fantng earth longs for the shower and the

 breeze.

 Iris Eve, balmy Evel and above the hushed world. Like maiher's red cheek Der her soft sleeping child, On the West with her pnion of crimson unfurlid, The twilight is sleeping. sweet, dewy and mId And the planet of eve looks mountain and lake. Like sentinespir just glancing from Heaven. Oh thus may we life and it's trials forsake, And the hour of our parting be calm as this Event