POETRY. THE NAME IN THE BAHK. Thk »*elf of long ai»o. And the self I struggle to know, sometime* tbiuk
... nimble squirrel once more ran skippingly over the rail: The blackbirds down among The alders noisily sung, And under the blackberry-trees whistled the serious quail. I caine, remembering well, How my little shadow fell, I painfully reached and wrote leave ...