31 OCTOBER 1891, Page 14

POETRY.

THE EMPTY NEST.

I SAUNTER all about the pleasant place You made thrice pleasant, 0 my friends, to me ; But you have gone where laughs in radiant grace That thousand-memoried unimpulsive sea. To storied precincts of the Southern foam, Dear birds of passage, ye have taken wing ; And ah ! for me, when April wafts you home, The Spring will more than ever be the Spring. Still lovely, as of old, this haunted ground; Tenderly, still, the Autumn sunshine falls ; And gorgeously the woodlands tower around, Freak'd with wild light at golden intervals : Yet, for the ache your absence leaves, 0 friends, Earth's lifeless pageantries are poor amends.

WILLIAM WATSON..