3 MAY 1890, Page 16

SPRING THE BELOVED.

HALF-BRONZE, half-green, the shivering hedgerows shook,

The larches stood in soft, uncertain mind, To hold or give their jewels to the wind That flung their gold-dust from them ; by the brook The long-delaying primrose overtook The last faint daffodil; the flocks were pined, No grasses sprang, for April was unkind, And sad the shepherd leaned upon his crook.

Then out of Heaven fell sudden power and grace ; Green waves of hedgerow foamed with blackthorn spray, The cherry whitened, tender mist of green Breathed from the birch, and through the coral screen Of sycamore the cuckoo called apace : For why, my Love had passed along the way.

H. D. RAWNSLEY.