WINTER RAIN.

EVERY valley drinks,

Every dell and hollow,

Where the kind rain sinks and sinks,

Green of Spring will follow.

Yet a lapse of weeks

Buds will burst their edges,

Strip their wool-coats, glue-coats, streaks, In the woods and hedges;

Weave a bower of love

For birds to meet each other,

Weave a canopy above

Nest and egg and mother.

But for fattening rain

We should have no flowers,
Never a bud or leaf again
But for soaking showers;

Never a mated bird

In the rocking tree-tops, Never indeed a flock or herd To graze upon the lea-crops.

Lambs so woolly white,

Sheep the sun-bright leas on,

They could have no grass to bite
But for rain in season.

We should find no moss

In the shadiest places,

Find no waving meadow grass
Pied with broad-eyed daisies :

But miles of barren sand,

With never a son or daughter,
Not a lily on the land,

Or lily on the water.

VANITY OF VANITIES.

SONNET.

AH, woe is me for pleasure that is vain,

Ah, woe is me for glory that is past;
Pleasure that bringeth sorrow at the last,
Glory that at the last bringeth no gain!
So saith the sinking heart; and so again
It shall say till the mighty angel-blast

Is blown, making the sun and moon aghast, And showering down the stars like sudden rain. And evermore men shall go fearfully

Bending beneath their weight of heaviness; And ancient men shall lie down wearily,

And strong men shall rise up in weariness; Yea, even the young shall answer sighingly, Saying one to another: How vain it is!

Morrow by morrow
Sorrow breeds sorrow,
For this my song sigheth;
From day to night

We lapse out of sight.-
Such is life that dieth.

THE GHOST'S PETITION.

"THERE'S a footstep coming; look out and see.”.. The leaves are falling, the wind is calling;

No one cometh across the lea.”—

There's a footstep coming; O sister, look.""The ripple flashes, the white foam dashes ; No one cometh across the brook."

But he promised that he would come: To-night, to-morrow, in joy or sorrow, He must keep his word, and must come home. "For he promised that he would come:

His word was given; from earth or heaven, He must keep his word, and must come home.

"Go to sleep, my sweet sister Jane;

You can slumber, who need not number Hour after hour, in doubt and pain.

"I shall sit here awhile, and watch;

Listening, hoping, for one hand groping

In deep shadow to find the latch."

After the dark, and before the light,

One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping, Who had watched and wept the weary night.

After the night, and before the day,

One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping Watching, weeping for one away.

There came a footstep climbing the stair;
Some one standing out on the landing
Shook the door like a puff of air—

Shook the door and in he passed.

Did he enter? In the room centre

Stood her husband: the door shut fast.

66

O Robin, but you are cold

Chilled with the night-dew: so lily-white you Look like a stray lamb from our fold.

66

"O Robin, but you are late:

Come and sit near me—sit here and cheer me."

(Blue the flame burnt in the grate.)

"Lay not down your head on my breast:

I cannot hold you, kind wife, nor fold you In the shelter that you love best.

"Feel not after my clasping hand :

I am but a shadow, come from the meadow Where many lie, but no tree can stand.