25 OCTOBER 1919, Page 14

POETRY.

A SONG.

TDB red's in the heather, the gold's on the fernHeigho! Heigho!

A nip to the wind and the year at the turnHeigho, Johnny!

The aglet and rowan shine bright on the bough—. Heigh° ! Heigho !

But seedtitue or harvest be one to him now Heigho, Johnny!

All one the wild weather, the wind and the rainHeigho ! Heigho!

For she that made summer will not come againHeigho, Johnny!

Was left in the lurch at a young woman's whimHeigho ! Heigho!

Who cared not a cuss for the ruin of him Heigho, Johnny!

Oh little we mind what the seasons may bring— Heigh° ! Heigh° 1 When hearts are a winter without any springHeigho, Johnny!

EDEN PHILLPOTTS•