1 DECEMBER 1877, Page 15

POETRY.

FONS BANDUSLIE.—(llor. iii., 11) 0 BABBLING Spring! than glass more clear, Worthy of wine, and wreath not sere, To-morrow shall a kid be thine

With swelled and sprouting brows for sign, Sure sign! of loves and battles near.

Child of the race that butt and rear Not less, alas! his life-blood dear Shall tinge thy cold wave crystalline, 0 babbling Spring!

Thee Sirius knows not. Thou dost cheer With pleasant cool the plough-worn steer,—

The wandering flock. This verse of mine

Shall rank thee one with founts divine ; Men shall thy rock and tree revere,

0 babbling Spring !