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THE WINTER EVENING.

O WINTER, ruler of the inverted year, Thy scattered hair with sleet like ashes filled, Thy breath congealed upon thy lips, thy cheeks Fringed with a beard made white with other snows Than those of age, thy forehead wrapped in clouds, A leafless branch thy sceptre, and thy throne

A sliding car, indebted to no wheels,

But urged by storms along its slippery way,

I love thee, all unlovely as thou seem'st,

And dreaded as thou art! Thou hold'st the Sun
A prisoner in the yet undawning east,
Shortening his journey between morn and noon,
And hurrying him, impatient of his stay,
Down to the rosy west; but kindly still
Compensating his loss with added hours.
Of social converse and instructive ease,
And gathering, at short notice, in one group
The family dispersed, and fixing thought,
Not less dispersed by daylight and its cares.
I crown thee king of intimate delights,
Fireside enjoyments, homeborn happiness,
And all the comforts that the lowly roof
Of undisturbed Retirement, and the hours
Of long uninterrupted evening know.

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Come, Evening, once again, season of peace; Return, sweet Evening, and continue long! Methinks I see thee in the streaky west,

With matron step slow moving, while the Night

Treads on thy sweeping train; one hand employed

THE WINTER EVENING.

In letting fall the curtain of repose

On bird and beast, the other charged for man
With sweet oblivion of the cares of day:
Not sumptuously adorned, not needing aid,
Like homely-featured Night, of clustering gems;
A star or two, just twinkling on thy brow,
Suffices thee; save that the Moon is thine
No less than hers, not worn indeed on high
With ostentatious pageantry, but set
With modest grandeur in thy purple zone,
Resplendent less, but of an ampler round.
Come then, and thou shalt find thy votary calm,
Or make me so.

HOAR-FROST.

WHAT dream of beauty ever equalled this!
What bands from fairyland have sallied forth,
With snowy foliage from the abundant North,
With imagery from the realms of bliss!

What visions of my boyhood do I miss

That here are not restored! All splendours pure,
All loveliness, all graces that allure;

Shapes that amaze; a paradise that is

Yet was not-will not in few moments be:

Glory from nakedness, that playfully
Mimics with passing life each summer boon;
Clothing the ground-replenishing the tree;
Weaving arch, bower, and delicate festoon;
Still as a dream-and like a dream to flee!

39

PRESAGES OF SPRING.

"Thou visitest the earth, and waterest it: Thou greatly enrichest it with the river of God, which is full of water: Thou preparest them corn, when Thou hast so provided for it. Thou waterest the ridges thereof abundantly: Thou settlest the furrows thereof: Thou makest it soft with showers: Thou blessest the springing thereof."-Psalm lxv. 9, 10.

FROM the sod no crocus peeps,

And the snowdrop scarce is seen,

And the daffodil yet sleeps

In its radiant sheath of green;

Yet the naked groves among

Is an homeless music heard,

And a welcoming is sung,

'Till the leafless boughs are stirred.

With a spirit and a life

Which is floating all around ;

And the covert glades are rife

With the new awakened sound

Of the birds, whose voices pour
To an interrupted strain,

As they scarcely were secure

That the Spring was come again.

Soon the seasonable flowers

Will a glad assurance bring,

To their fresh and leafy bowers,

Of the presence of the Spring :
And these snatches of delight

Are the prelude of a song,

That will daily gather might,

And endure the Summer long.

TO AN EARLY PRIMROSE.

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TO AN EARLY PRIMROSE.

"Lone tenant of the peaceful glade!
Emblem of Virtue in the shade!
Rearing thy head to brave the storm
That would thy innocence deform."

MILD offspring of a dark and sullen sire!
Whose modest form, so delicately fine,
Was nursed in whirling storms,

And cradled in the winds.

Thee, when young Spring first questioned Winter's sway, And dared the sturdy blusterer to the fight,

Thee on this bank he threw

To mark the victory.

In this low vale, the promise of the year,
Serene, thou open'st to the nipping gale,
Unnoticed and alone,

Thy tender elegance.

So Virtue blooms, brought forth amid the storms
Of chill adversity, in some lone walk

Of life she rears her head

Obscure and unobserved;

While every bleaching breeze, that on her blows,

Chastens her spotless purity of breast,

And hardens her to bear

Serene the ills of life.

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