7 OCTOBER 1876, Page 15

POETRY.

AMONG THE VINES.

THE clustering vines spring up through the clear air ;

They grow twice over ; once, high up and green,

And once deep down in the blue lake, between The purple mountains,—both alike so fair, One scarce can tell the sunshine from the glare.

Here, the light ripples through a leafy screen, There, it flows on all golden and serene, In both the dark-eyed children stand and stare ;

While up and down their weary parents pace

Those stony ways, with long, deep baskets slung Cover their shoulders ; yet with easy grace They bear their burdens, whether old or young ; For here they play at work—in many a place They work at play—for those, no song be sung.

H. .A. DUFF.