EDITORIAL NOTE TO POETRY

of prison, vault, and dread, With churchly fragrance, clouds of incense spread, And yet I found all strange/in terror gaped. But now I throw my fool's cap o'er my head, For I escaped! MUSIC OF THE SOUTH⁴¹ All that my eagle e'er saw clear, I see and feel in heart to-day (Although my hope was wan and gray) Thy song like arrow pierced mine ear, A balm to touch, a balm to hear, As down from heaven it winged its way. So now for lands of southern fire To happy isles where Grecian nymphs hold sport! Thither now turn the ship's desire— No ship e'er sped to fairer port. A RIDDLE A riddle here—can you the answer scent? "When man discovers, woman must invent."—— TO FALSE FRIENDS You stole, your