316 THe Aroosrook Woops. 


THE SHOWERS AT THE POGE 
HE tent is pitched beside the stream upon a mossy knoll, 
The bark canoe turned bottom up and resting on a bole ; 
The forest warblers cease their song, the squirrels hie away, 
The clouds entirely hide the sun, ’tis more like night than day. 
E’en the beechen leaves are still, the pool a mirror quite, 
When the pearly rain-drops make the dusky waters light; 
Tinkling on the darkened mirror from the thick and murky air, 
Till a rainbow and the sunset gives a promise bright and fair, 
Oh, the morning! it is charming, for the clouds drift far away, 
As the merry squirrels in the trees announce the coming day; 
Their happy hearts are filled with joy, so gleeful every one, 
When just above the tallest trees beams forth the glorious sun. 
The birds fly to its friendly warmth with song of loving cheer, 
And o’er the hills and down the vale it shines upon the deer ; 
Soon every tree and bush and bud are smiling in its light, 
While all the forest life enjoy the rosy morning bright. 
The little wavelets down the pool fly gaily on before, 
As playful zephyrs hasten by and chase them to the shore ; 
While in the sparkling sunlit wave, oft leaping wholly out, 
Is seen the glistening beauty of the bonny speckled trout. 
