GAYETY

In this class of selections the same suggestions that were made on the subject of common reading are pertinent and practical. However, greater variety of intonation, a quicker movement, and a higher pitch, are required. Flexibility of voice is indispensable, so that the slides of the fifth and octave may be easily reached, while the voice remains free from strain and harshness.

GAY AND ANIMATED SELECTIONS

THE DAFFODILS

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,—

A host of golden daffodils

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay;
Ten thousand saw I, at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee;

A poet could not but be gay

In such a jocund company;

I gazed and gazed-but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought.

For oft, when on my couch I lie,
In vacant or in pensive mood
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

CUPID SWALLOWED

T'other day, as I was twining
Roses for a crown to dine in,
What, of all things, midst the heap,
Should I light on, fast asleep,
But the little desperate elf,-
The tiny traitor,- Love himself!
By the wings I pinched him up
Like a bee, and in a cup

Of my wine I plunged and sank him;

And what d' ye think I did?—I drank him!
Faith, I thought him dead. Not he!
There he lives with tenfold glee;
And now this moment, with his wings,
I feel him tickling my heart-strings.

-Leigh Hunt.

THE SOUTH WIND AND THE SUN

O the South Wind and the Sun!

How each loved the other one

Full of fancy full of folly

And his tinsel-tangled hair,

Tossed and lost upon the air,
Was glossier and flossier

Than any anywhere.

And the South Wind's eyes were two
Little dancing drops of dew,

As he puffed his cheeks, and pursed his lips
And blew, and blew, and blew!
And the Sun's-like diamond-stone,
Brighter yet than ever known,

As he knit his brows and held his breath,
And shone, and shone, and shone!

And this pair of merry fays
Wandered through the summer days;
Arm in arm they went together
Over heights of morning haze —
Over slanting slopes of lawn

They went on, and on, and on,

Where the daisies looked like star-tracks

Trailing up and down the dawn.

And where'er they found the top
Of a wheat-stalk droop and lop,

They chucked it underneath the chin

And praised the lavish crop,

Till it lifted with the pride

Of the heads it grew beside,

And then the South Wind and the Sun

Went onward satisfied.

And the humming-bird, that hung

Like a jewel up among

The tilted honeysuckle-horns,

They mesmerized, and swung

In the palpitating air,

Drowsed with odors strange and rare,

And, with whispered laughter, slipped away And left him hanging there.

By the brook with mossy brink,
Where the cattle came to drink,
They trilled, and piped, and whistled
With the thrush and bobolink,
Till the kine, in listless pause,
Switched their tails in mute applause,
With lifted head and dreamy eyes,
And bubble-dripping jaws.

And where the melons grew,
Streaked with yellow, green, and blue,
These jolly sprites went wandering
Through spangled paths of dew.
And the melons, here and there,
They made love to, everywhere,

Turning their pink souls to crimson
With caresses fond and fair.

Over orchard walls they went,
Where the fruited boughs were bent

Till they brushed the sward beneath them
Where the shine and shadow blent;
And the great green pear they shook
Till the sallow hue forsook

Its features, and the gleam of gold Laughed out in every look.

And they stroked the downy cheek
Of the peach, and smoothed it sleek,
And flushed it into splendor;
And, with many an elfish freak,
Gave the russet's rust a wipe —
Prankt the rambo with a stripe,
And the winesap blushed its reddest
As they spanked the pippins ripe.

And the golden-banded bees,
Droning o'er the flowery leas,

They bridled, reined, and rode away
Across the fragrant breeze,

Till in hollow oak and elm

They had groomed and stabled them
In waxen stalls that oozed with dews
Of rose and lily stem.

Where the dusty highway leads,
High above the wayside weeds,

They sowed the air with butterflies
Like blooming flower-seeds,
Till the dull grasshopper sprung
Half a man's height up, and hung

Tranced in the heat, with whirring wings,
And sung, and sung, and sung!

And they heard the killdee's call,
And afar, the waterfall,

But the rustle of a falling leaf
They heard above it all;
And the trailing willow crept
Deeper in the tide that swept

The leafy shallop to the shore,
And wept, and wept, and wept!

And the fairy vessel veered

From its moorings- tacked and steered

For the center of the current

Sailed away and disappeared:
And the burthen that it bore

From the long-enchanted shore

"Alas! the South Wind and the Sun!"

I murmur evermore.

For the South Wind and the Sun,

Each so loves the other one,

For all his jolly folly,

And frivolity and fun,

That our love for them they weigh

As their fickle fancies may,

And when at last we love them most,

They laugh and sail away.

-James Whitcomb Riley.