7 A WINTER WREATH. MRS. WILLIAM HEY. TALK not of Winter as a dotard old, He bids the winds go forth, and forests quake, He doth unchain the floods, and in their might Adown the hills they rush, and through the vale, With deaf”ning clamour, till they reach the main. The main! how awful in its maddened ire! It looks as if 'twould never know again The gentleness which summer airs inspire. Then would you deem he borrow'd Fancy's wand, The winds were laid; the skies, serene and clear, As was most meet, we added to our store; Drives the fierce blast along! How fast the snow-flakes fall! How wild, how rude The sky how dark! And hark! oh, hark! "The floods lift up their voice!" But, whilst without All is mad revelry and savage rout, Within, let smiles of cheerfulness and mirth And fetch the trophies cull'd this morn, Of warriors arm'd with spear and brand. But Time, who never stays his flight, His voice; and through the hall it sends "Good night! good night!" from fond lips fall. How silent now the lonely hall! (By permission of the Author.) THE PILGRIMS AND THE PEAS. DR. JOHN WOLCOTT (PETER PINdar). A BRACE of sinners, for no good, Were ordered to the Virgin Mary's shrine, Who at Loretto dwelt, in wax, stone, wood, And, in a fair white wig, looked wondrous fine. Fifty long miles had these sad rogues to travel, With something in their shoes much worse than gravel; In short, their toes, so gentle, to amuse, The priest had ordered peas into their shoes • A nostrum famous in old Popish times, For purifying souls when foul with crimes; A sort of apostolic salt That Popish priests did for its powers exalt, For keeping souls of sinners sweet, Peas in their shoes, to go and pray : The other limped as if he had been shot. |