1 MARCH 1879, Page 14

MARCH, THE LION. MAitcn, the lion, awoke in his lair,—

Woke, and stretch'd a mighty paw; Rolled out a yawn that filled the air, And caught my breast with his claw.

Then some good angel, that serves the Lord,—

Serves the Lord that pities pain, Sinote with the flat of his shining sword, March, the lion, to sleep again.

All this I saw, and felt, and knew, Lying here in a kind of dream : Somebody said that an East wind blew, And fell, with a sudden gleam.

MARY EROTHERTON,