POETRY.
SEPTEMBER.
I" awl], l'honneur et le ris De Cypris."j 0 GOLDEN child of the year
That is sere, With robe of gossamer twining; 0 month that walkest a maid, Unafraid, O'er meadows with dew-pearls shining Thy rippling laugh is the breeze In the trees, Thy voice is the starling calling ; Thy golden dower are the sheaves, And the leaves From wall and from woodland falling.
The hills lie purple in haze
All thy days,
The cloud sleeps over its shadow ; As a ghost in raiment of white All the night The mist keeps watch o'er the meadow.
The splendour thou had, yet the spleen Of a queen ; For oft when the woods are fairest, Thou darkenest heaven with a frown, And thy crown With a tempest of passion tearest.
Yet heat thou a kindly hest, Wayward guest, And gently breakest the message, That days more niggard of light And the flight Of gathering swallows presage.
0 child of the summer past, Though the last, Yet dearest of all we find thee !'
Oh, stay with us, and by thy stay Keep away The hungering winter behind thee ! F. W. B.
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