POETRY.
A MID-WINTER DAY.
THE day was mine, was all my own to spend, The- road, the shining road, was mine at last, The forest leaned towards me as a friend—
Let me recall my day and hold it fast.
This have I seen which left me satisfied, Men and brave horses, comrades of the plough, Red gold of withies by the riverside, And russet oak-leaves on the sheltered bough.
This have I heard which filled me with content, The welcome of two children on the way.
Two little children hand in hand who went And shyly whispered "Happy Christmas-day."
This have I felt; the self which hears and sees
Passed, and my inmost self became a part Of sunset welling from the soul of trees And colour lareathed from every bracken: heart.