POETRY
... THE BUCKET. Hlow dear to this heart are the secnes of my childhood, When fond recollectiou presents them to view! The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wild wood, And every loved spot which my infancy knew; The wide-spreading pond and the mill which stood by it, The bridge and the rock where the cataract fell; The cot of my father, the dairy-bouse nigh it, And e'en the rude bucket which ?? ...