The darkest woods let in the Hght, 

 And thin and frail are looking now ; 



And yet their weight is more than June's, 

 Since nuts bend down each hazel bough. 



WILLIAM H. DAVIES. 



o 



THE ARBOUR 



THE tap-room in the Winter 



When the ground is white with snow, 

 But the arbour in the Summer 



When the honeysuckles blow ! 

 So, landlord, ice the cider. 



And put rose-leaves in the beer ; 

 And we '11 drink with any fellow 



Who will pay his footing here ! 



O a nightingale is singing 



In the lilac on the lawn, 

 And we '11 join him in his chorus 



Till the day begins to dawn ! 

 So, landlord, ice the cider. 



And put rose-leaves in the beer ; 

 And we '11 drink with any fellow 



Who will pay his footing here ! 



O the moon lights up the lilies 



Through the blossoms on the lime ; 

 But the rising sun is better 



For a clock for closing time ! 

 So, landlord, ice the cider, 



And put rose-leaves in the beer ; 

 And we '11 drink with any fellow 



Who will pay his footing here ! 



CHARLES DALMON. 



