POET —_ UPON A 1 me of a pleasant t en ‘So merrily did chime The year was in its
... mountain mist and evening haze (Unlike this cold, grey rime), Seemed woven warm of golden alr— When J was in my prime. And blackberries—so mawkish now— ‘Were finely flavoured then ; Amd mnte—anch reddening clusters rit ...