In looking over much of the poetry that has been sent out by college poets, one instinctively divides the mass into two classes ; poems of love, and poems of woe. To be sure, there are a great many verses which do not come under either of these heads, but all in all, it is a useful distinction to keep in mind. Before one has read many of the productions that this year in particular has brought fourth, still another class comes into prominent notice, embracing both the other divisions, which may be fitly characterized as the ridiculous. A few of the verses coming under this head are worthy (from their utter lack of merit) of further consideration than they have yet received. It is really appalling to see how bad verses can be made by one of the "ridiculous poets ;" to be made the unwilling witness of the complete lack of sense and of music their verses show. Recently, we noticed a poem, which, after a lugubrious account of the hollowness of things in general and the fearful yearning of the poet's heart in particular, gave cordial invitation in the last two lines to all the world to

"Calling, O, come and be dead,

Come, O, come, and be dead."

Pills seemed to be the only remedy in such a case, and taken often.

Another heart is moved in a slightly different way. This one makes use of a glowing imagination, and produces the following lines to some fair lady :

"Were I a little bird,

And had two little wings,

I'd fly to thee,

But here I ever stay,

It cannot be."

Without the slightest wish to be officious in any way, we tender our sincere congratulations to the fair unknown, that the author of the verse is not a "little bird," and has not "two little wings," nor three, nor four little wings either as some birds apparently have, and that "it cannot be." It is possible that we mistake the poet's meaning in this verse, but really, we have not been able to discover any, and so had to invent one for ourselves.

Passing from verses of this type, one naturally takes up such as the following :

"I listen to the quiet sobbing

Of the dark eternal sea,

And hear its secret voices throbbing