27 FEBRUARY 1892, Page 18

POETRY.

A GOLDEN HOUR.

A BECKONING spirit of gladness seemed afloat, That lightly danced in laughing air before us : The earth was all in tune, and you a note Of Nature's happy chorus.

'Twas like a vernal morn, yet overhead The leafless boughs across the lane were knitting : The ghost of some forgotten Spring, we said, O'er Winter's world comes flitting.

Or was it Spring herself, that, gone astray, Beyond the alien frontier chose to tarry P Or but some bold outrider of the May, Some April-emissary P The apparition faded on the air,

Capricious and incalculable comer.—

Wilt thou too pass, and leave my chill days bare, And fall'n my phantom Summer ?

WILLIAM WATSON.