SCENES FROM THE SADDLE. 



With its note of ' Ever,' ' Ever,'— 



Bier of leaves that change and die — 

 Hath for men a mystic spirit 

 Brooding whilst the seasons fly. 



Deathless voices, universal, 

 Blending for his infant mind, 



Life's fair rhythm, time's dread message, 

 In an anthem for mankind — 



Come, trot on ! 'tis getting darker. 



And there is a shrewdish wind. 



23 



