POETRY. THE NAME THE BARK. Thk nlf of bo long ago, And the self I struggle to know, I sometimes
... nimbi* squirrel once more ran skippingly over the rail: The blackbirds down among The alders noisily sung, And under tbe blackberry-trees whistled tbe serious quail, I came, remembering well. How iny little shadow fell. As I painfully reached and wrote ...