Without a day of rest around

Their mother tree, on quiet ground.

But cast away on blast and wave,
To lie in some chance grave.

When sickness smote poor Mary low,

And sent her off her life's old ground,
To poor-house, day by day might show
Her bread, but not her friends around;
She never fell to lie at rest,

At this old place, she liked the best,
But went as leaves off-sent by waves,
To lie in distant graves.

MELHILL FEAST

AVE up at the feast, by Melhill's brow,

So softly below the clouds in flight,

There swept on the wood, the shade and light,

Tree after tree, and bough by bough.

And there, as among the crowd, I took

My wandering way, both to and fro,

Full comely were shapes that day could show, Face upon face, and look by look:

And there, among girls on left and right,

On one with a winsome smile, I set

My looks; and the more, the more we met

Glance upon glance, and sight by sight.

The road she had come by then was soon

The one of my paths that best I knew,
By glittering gossamer and dew,

Evening by evening, moon by moon.

First by the door of maidens fair,

As fair as the best till she is nigh,

Though now I can heedless pass them by,

One after one, or pair by pair.

Then by the orchards dim and cool,

And then along Woodcombe's timber'd side, And then by the meads, where waters glide Shallow by shallow, pool by pool.

And then to the house that stands alone
With roses around the porch and wall,
Where, up by the bridge, the waters fall
Rock under rock, and stone by stone.

Sweet were the hopes I found to cheer
My heart as I thought on time to come,
With one that would bless my happy home,
Moon upon moon, and year by year.

THE DUET

As late at a house I made my call,
A mother and daughter's voices rang,
In twotreble songs, they sweetly sang,
Strain upon strain, and fall by fall.

The mother was comely, still, but staid, The daughter was young, but womantall, As people come on to great from small, Maid upon child, and wife from maid.

And oh where the mother, in the train Of years, may have left her child alone, With no fellow voice to match her own, Song upon song, and strain by strain.