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Guelder Rose. 
WINTER. 
I deem thee not unlovely, though thou com’st 
With astern visage. To the tuneful bird, 
The blushing flower, the rejoicing stream, 
Thy discipline is harsh. But unto man 
Methinks thou hasta kindlier ministry. 
Thy lengthened eve is fuil of fireside joys, 
And deathless linking of warm heart to heart, 
So that the hoarse storm passes by unheard. 
L. H. S1aourNey. 
Old Winter is a frolicksome fellow I wot ; 
He is wild in his humor, and free ; 
He ’Il whistle along for the “ want of thought,”? 
And -tall the warmth of your furs at naught, 
And ruffie the laces the pretty girls bought; 
For a frolicksome fellow 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 afraid he is peeping at me. 
Huen Moore. 






















me 

