Fare-and-cvent? tears 17

Winter was 1 time of snow:

Ens md now I vuil smem Jer
Are the em.lems i Decemjer
There, in me night's time, there fil
now which made impassatie

Roads and streets, unui the spade
To every house a path lad made.
Then the tited mows were seen,
F palace for a fairy queen.
With Tanted roof and perteos
Spangled o'er with diamond snews.
Then we heard of travellers weary,
On the commons wide and dreary,
Knowing not which way to go,
fying in the pathless snow.
Then the boys at anow-ball played,
And snow-men and mountains made,
Or a piled-up, strong snow-ball,

Pierced with arches wide and tall;
Or in orchards, all a row,

Scooped-out cottages of snow.

Then the ponds and streams were frozen,
And the sliding-places chosen,

And no word the boys could say
But of sliding all the day.

Then on pavements you might see
Sawdust scattered carefully,
And good people, staff in hand,
Shod with strips of woollen band,
Creeping o'er the icy stones,
Having dread of broken bones.
Then the cows were in their shed,
And the sheep with hay were fed,
And the servants of the farm
Housed up every creature warm,
And, up-muffled, cheek and chin,
Brought the logs for evening in;
And the fire so well supplied,
Crackled up the chimney wide.
Then the spinning-wheel went round,
With a dreamy, buzzing sound,
For the sheets and table-linen

Were of the good housewife's spinning,
And the village weaver made
At his loom sufficient trade.

Then the icicles hung low

From the heavy roofs of snow,
Like a line of daggers strong,-

Some were short and some were long;

Melting when the days were bright,

Freezing o'er again at night.

Then the chamber-windows bore
Fan-like leaves and branchings hoar;
And the water in a trice

In the river was solid ice.

Then hands were chapped and noses red,

And folks were even cold in bed

Till their teeth chattered in their head.

But when the fox's bark is loud;
When the bright hearth is snapping;
When children round the chimney crowd,
All shivering and clapping;

When stone and bone with frost do break,
And pond and lake are cracking,-
Then you may see his old sides shake,
Such glee his frame is racking.
Near the north pole, upon the strand,
He has an icy tower;
Likewise in lovely Switzerland

He keeps a summer bower.

So up and down,-now here, now there,-
His regiments manœuvre;

When he goes by, we stand and stare,

And cannot choose but shiver.

From the German.

OLD-FASHIONED WINTER.

FIVE-and-twenty years ago
Winter was a time of snow;

Frost and snow I well remember
Were the emblems of December.
There, in one night's time, there fell
Snow which made impassable
Roads and streets, until the spade
To every house a path had made.
Then the drifted snows were seen,
Fit palace for a fairy queen.
With vaulted roof and porticos
Spangled o'er with diamond snows.
Then we heard of travellers weary,
On the commons wide and dreary,
Knowing not which way to go,
Dying in the pathless snow.
Then the boys at snow-ball played,
And snow-men and mountains made,

Or a piled-up, strong snow-ball,

Pierced with arches wide and tall;
Or in orchards, all a row,
Scooped-out cottages of snow.

Then the ponds and streams were frozen,
And the sliding-places chosen,

And no word the boys could say
But of sliding all the day.

Then on pavements you might see
Sawdust scattered carefully,
And good people, staff in hand,
Shod with strips of woollen band,
Creeping o'er the icy stones,
Having dread of broken bones.
Then the cows were in their shed,
And the sheep with hay were fed,
And the servants of the farm
Housed up every creature warm,
And, up-muffled, cheek and chin,
Brought the logs for evening in;
And the fire so well supplied,
Crackled up the chimney wide.
Then the spinning-wheel went round,
With a dreamy, buzzing sound,
For the sheets and table-linen
Were of the good housewife's spinning,
And the village weaver made
At his loom sufficient trade.

Then the icicles hung low

From the heavy roofs of snow,
Like a line of daggers strong,-

Some were short and some were long;

Melting when the days were bright,
Freezing o'er again at night.

Then the chamber-windows bore
Fan-like leaves and branchings hoar;
And the water in a trice

In the river was solid ice.

Then hands were chapped and noses red,

And folks were even cold in bed

Till their teeth chattered in their head.

Then the famished birds were tame,
And hopping to the window came,
Begging little crumbs of bread;
Begging to be housed and fed;
And the finches in their need
Picked the pyracantha seed,
And the kindly heart was stirred
Finding many a frozen bird!

Then, when sitting by the hearth,
Holy, Christian thoughts had birth;
Pity for the poor and old;
Perishing in want and cold;
Pity for the children small,
Who, mid many wants, knew all,-
Hunger, nakedness, and pain,
Seeking kindness, oft in vain;
Sorrow ever bubbling o'er

Till their little hearts were sore.

Then our gratitude arose

To Him who gave us more than those,
And human love sprung forth to bless
The lowly children of distress,

And the soul glowed with thankfulness.

Mary Howitt

WINTER WIND.

THE wind it singeth loudly,
The wind it singeth long,
Of the far away blue mountain,
And the storm-cloud in its song

It telleth of the ice and snow
On Hecla's rugged mound,
It boasteth of the wave it raised,
As it sped the wide world round.
Where it listeth there it bloweth,
The wilful, wayward wind;
Whence it cometh, where it goeth,
And its dwelling who shall find?