24 SEPTEMBER 1881, Page 14

POETRY.

DECEMBER AND JUNE.

Jr was but the wild waves playing, It was but the wild wind's roar ; It was but a pale maid straying Alone by the wreck-strewn shore.

It was but a day of December, That followed a day of June ; But to spirits that can remember, What a wail in the words, " 'Tis done !"

The dream is broken and faded, The glory departed and flown ; And to hearts once loving as they did, 'Tis death to live on alone !

0 Sea, that her lover art hiding !

0 wave, with thy dirge-like tune ! There's a fathomless gulf dividing A day of December and June. B.