MISTS.

A DAY of mists, - all blank and bare

Is the beyond, the everywhere,

Afar and nigh;

Save one small round of earth and air,

Whose centre - I.

But into this small plot of ground

Pours a whole city-full of sound,

And to the brim

Hath filled and overflowed its round.

With life's great hymn.

This wealth of sound I bear with me,

And am the centre of a sea,

Where'er I go, -

Much wider than my need can be

Sets to and fro.

Methinks much wider than the ken

Of farthest-reaching minds of men

Their round is clear,

And full and full and full again

Of Heaven's best cheer.

Yet doth the soul, on wings heaven-lent,

Soon part with simple, plain Content, -

Sweet maid, but fond! -

To flee with joyous wonderment

To the beyond.

IT is rumored that an omnibus line will be started, to run between Harvard Square and Boston, early in the coming spring.