29 NOVEMBER 1902, Page 17

WINTER NESTS.

0 PITEOUS nests of Winter-time, Disclosed to every careless eye, In hedges dark with dripping rime, Where is your Summer secrecy, Your green pavilion of the prime ?

"Poor little nests, that hang forlorn In bushes almost raft of leaves, .And naked thickets of sharp thorn,— Robbed of your shelter by those thieves The frosts, and made a mark for scorn!

Nests that so cunningly were thatched With fibres made to interlace,—

a In which the brittle brood were hatched, In your once cherished hiding-place, By Winter's harpies rudely snatched : Like yours, grief's bitter blast lays bare Love's secrets, that poor maidens hide,

In hope's green bow'rs kept with such care,—

So long dissembled, but soon spied In the keen havoc of despair ! Lucima.