win* coK.it »m SELECTIONS FROM CONTEMPORARY POETS. No. XVII, Evt.BY heart has its own rislt
... 1 morning mist and evening hate, Unlike the cold, grey rime, Seem’d woven wave-, of golden air When I was in prime. And blackberries, mawkish now, W’ere finely flavour'd then. And hazel nuts such clusters thick I ne’er shall pluck again. Nor sirawb’ries ...