POETRY. WHEN T WAS IN MY POTS. BY CAROLINE BOWLES. I mind me of pleasant time, A season long ago,—
... The morning mist and evening haze Unlike this cold gTey rime— Seemed woven waves golden air, When I was in my prime. And blackberries—so mawkish now— Were finely flavoured then And hazel nuts ! such clusters thick ne'er shall pull again ; Nor strawberries ...