la&Y wind is turned to bitter north 
0*5 That was so soft a south before ; 
My sky, that shone so sunny bright, 
With foggy gloom is clouded o’er; 
My gay green leaves are yellow-black, 
Upon the dank autumnal floor; 
For love, departed once, cpmes back 
No more again, no more. 
Clough 
Yeli-ow Rattle-}Vaiting. 
‘HjrAITING, waiting. ’Tis so far 
To the day that is to tome : 
One by one the days that are 
All to tell their countless sum ; 
Each to dawn, and each to die — 
What so far as by-and-bye? 
