NOON, and the northwest sweeps the empty road,

The rain-washed fields from hedge to hedge are bare; Beneath the leafless elms some hind's abode

Looks small and void, and no smoke meets the air

From its poor hearth: one lonely rook doth dare

The gale, and beats about the unseen corn,

Then turns, and whirling down the wind is borne.

With more than beating of the chilly

rain ?

Shalt thou not hope for joy new-born again,

Since no grief ever born can ever die Through changeless change of seasons passing by?

[From the Earthly Paradise.]
MARCH.

SLAYER of winter, art thou here again?

O welcome, thou that bring'st the summer nigh!

The bitter wind makes not thy victory vain,

Nor will we mock thee for thy faint blue sky.

Welcome, O March! whose kindly days and dry

Make April ready for the throstle's song,

Thou first redresser of the winter's wrong!

Yea, welcome, March! and though I die ere June,

Yet for the hope of life I give thee praise, [tune Striving to swell the burden of the That even now I hear thy brown birds raise,

Unmindful of the past or coming days; [gun! Who sing, "O joy! a new year is beWhat happiness to look upon the sun!"

"Come again,

Come back, past years! why will ye

pass in vain ?"

[From the Earthly Paradise.]
DECEMBER.

DEAD lonely night, and all streets quiet now,

Thin o'er the moon the hindmost cloud swims past

Of that great rack that brought us up the snow;

On earth, strange shadows o'er the snow are cast;

Pale stars, bright moon, swift cloud, make heaven so vast,

That earth, left silent by the wind of night,

Seems shrunken 'neath the gray unmeasured height.

Ah! through the hush the looked-for midnight clangs!

And then, e'en while its last stroke's solemn drone

In the cold air by unlit windows hangs,

Out break the bells above the year foredone,

Change, kindness lost, love left unloved alone;

Till their despairing sweetness makes thee deem

Thou once wert loved, if but amidst a dream.

[love, Oh, thou who clingest still to life and Though naught of good, no God thou mayst discern,

Though naught that is, thine utmost woe can move, Though no soul knows wherewith thine heart doth yearn, Yet, since thy weary lips no curse can learn, [away, Cast no least thing thou lovedst once Since yet, perchance, thine eyes shall see the day.

LAST VERSES.

[Given to a Friend a day or two before the

Writer's Death.]

Lay me then gently in my narrow dwelling,

Thou gentle heart;

am sleeping,

Life's fever o'er.

grief be swelling, Let no tear start:

Burst through that clay, Will there be one still on that spot repining

Lost hopes all day?

When no star twinkles with its eye of glory

On that low mound,

And wintry storms have, with their ruins hoary,

Its loneness crowned,

been knelling,

I'm sittin' on your knee, Willie,
For the last time in my life,
A puir heart-broken thing, Willie!
A mither, yet nae wife.

misery's story,

Pacing it round?

To ask such meed,

And press it mair and mair; Or it will burst the silken twine, Sae strang is its despair!

O, wae's me for the hour, Willie, When we thegither met,

borrow,

From hearts that bleed,

The wailings of to-day for what to

morrow

Shall never need.

That our first tryst was set! O wae's me for the loanin' green Where we were wont to gae, And wae's me for the destinie That gart me luve thee sae!

But oh! remember me, Willie,
On land where'er ye be;

And oh! think on the leal, leal heart,
That ne'er luvit ane but thee!
And oh! think on the cauld, cauld
mools

That file my yellow hair,

JEANIE MORRISON.

I'VE wandered east, I've wandered west,

Through mony a weary way; But never, never can forget

The luve o' life's young day!
The fire that's blawn on Beltane e'en
May weel be black gin Yule;
But blacker fa' awaits the heart
Where first fond luve grows cool.

O dear, dear Jeanie Morrison.
The thochts o' bygane years
Still fling their shadows ower my
path,

And blind my een with tears:

chin

Ye never shall kiss mair!

tears,

And sair and sick I pine,