GILLYFLOWERS. LD-FASHIONED, yes, I know they are, Their velvet petals, fold on fold, On Sabbath mornings long ago, I used to break from childish talk, In spring she loved the snow-drop white, Or roses newly blown; But this the bower she cherished most, She chose it for her own. Ah, mother dear! the brown flowers wave This morning far away; And I sit lonely here the while, I well could sigh, for grief is strong, But if I smile, or if I sigh, God knoweth well the reason why, Firm faith to feel all good is meant, And oftentimes he deigns to shed And chose he not a bearer meet, And child and bonny blossons come, O'er waters waste and wild. -All the Year Round. THE BROOK. A. TENNYSON. "O babbling brook," says Edmund in his rhyme, "Whence come you?" and the brook, why not? replies. COME from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, By thirty hills I hurry down, Till last by Philip's farm I flow I chatter over stony ways, |