POETRY.

OUT WEST.

UNDER the forest, of its snows unladen,

And kissing back the nervous kiss of Spring, I sit and dream of courtly knight and maiden, And old-world pomp encompassing a King.

Out of her wintry sleep the Earth is waking, And birds and flowers carol her rgveilli ; O'er East and West the common promise breaking, Breathes the first whisper of their holiday.

Without, the mighty forms of things primwval Stand all untenanted of Custom's robes ; Within, my mind shapes pictures medizeval, With pencil fashioned forth in other globes.

The rugged miners share my board and pillow, And by the camp-fire sing their lawless song ; But at a bound my thought o'errides the billow, And breasts the strong surf by a flight as strong. What do I here, among the waving grasses, Which never learned to trim their graces wild ? While by my side Nature's rude army passes, Another world still claims me for her child.

In vain I ply the axe in pass or clearing ; In vain I fill me with the unfettered air; Still to my eyes are other scenes appearing, Still my heart hearkens the low voice of Care.

Among our ranks no woman comes to harm us, And sow us discord for our hands to reap ; No wi!es and jars allure us or alarm us, Or wanton with the mighty arm of Sleep.

Yet here, for me, though heart and will are master,.

As strong as iron and as calm as Death, The will will waver and the heart beat faster, Touched by the memory of a woman's breath.

Why are ye here, rude fellows of my labour, Thus outlawed from the bounds of woman's reign ?

Read I, beneath the swart hues of my neighbour, Another story of another pain ?

She said she loved me,—and one day she left me,.

Without a warning, and without a word; Of past and future at a blow bereft me ; The cause unspoken, and the plea unheard.

Behind me honour, and high hopes before me,— A life of earnest and a name of worth ; Her glamour shed the bright delusion o'er me ; Her presence kept the promise of my birth.

Then fell the blow, and past and future shivered',.

Just at a fairy finger's heartless touch ; And from the bondage of a lie delivered, I laughed that I had trusted overmuch.

Laughed and the echo of that hollow laughter Rings in my heart with one eternal knell ; And the slow years which rolled their burden after,.

With all the burden cannot crush the spell.

Pines of the Sierras, spread your mantles round me,.

And hide me from the past, untroddeu West !

Oh! that the free lands and free souls which bound me.,.

Could break the fetters of my prisoned breast !

In vain, in vain ! Not the dividing ocean, With all its storms one memory can drown ; While the vexed phantom of a lost devotion, Still in the tortured bosom dies not down.

Up, and to work ! The western spring invites me,. And Freedom calls me forth among the free ; But no ! Nor work nor freedom here delights me, The Eastern bondage falls again on me.

HERMAN C. MERIVALE-