I deem thee not unlovely, though thou com’st 
With a stem visage. To the tuneful bird, 
The blushing flower, the rejoicing stream. 
Thy discipline is harsh. But unto man 
Methinhs thou hast a kindlier ministry. 
Thy lengthened eve is full of flreside joys. 
And deathless linking of warm heart to heart. 
So that the hoarse storm passes by unheard. 
L. H. SiGOTONEY. 
Old Winter is a feolicksome fellow I wot; 
He is wild in his humor, and free; 
He ’ll whistle along for the “ want of thought,” 
And ot all the warmth of your furs at naught. 
And rufde the laces the pretty girls bought; 
Bor a frolicksome feUow is he. 
A cunning old fellow is Winter, they say, — 
A cunning old fellow is he ; 
He peeps in crevices day by day. 
To see how we are passing our time away. 
And mark all our doings from grave to gay, — 
I’m afcaid he is peeping at me. 
Hugh Moore.' 
mm 
