THE KITTEN AND THE FALLING LEAVES. THAT way look, my Infant, lo See the Kitten on the wall, Sporting with the leaves that fall, Withered leaves-one-two-and three From the lofty elder tree! Through the calm and frosty air Of this morning bright and fair, Eddying round and round they sink, Softly, slowly one might think, From the motions that are made, Every little leaf conveyed Sylph or Fairy hither tending,— In this wavering parachute. -But the Kitten, how she starts, What intenseness of desire In her upward eye of fire! With a tiger-leap half-way Now she meets the coming prey, Lets it go as fast, and then Has it in her power again: Now she works with three or four, Like an Indian conjuror; Quick as he in feats of art, Far beyond in joy of heart. Were her antics played in the eye Of a thousand standers-by, Clapping hands with shout and stare, FAIR May unveils her ruddy cheek, And decks her brow with daisies, And scatters blossoms as she goes Through fields and forest mazes. THE MAYING. The fragrant hawthorn, white with bloom, Fills all the uplands airy: The grass is dry, the sky is clear Let's go a-Maying, Mary! I dearly love, in days like this, When birds make music o'er us, To roam with thee through wildwood paths, And listen to the chorus; To help thee over crags and stiles, And take thy hand in leaping, And out and in to see thy face Ten years have pass'd since first I saw In life's young Spring I swore to thee Time lays his finger light on thee: Thine eyes are bright as first they glow'd To hear my youthful speeches. Bring all the four into the woods- Instead of garden roses. Beneath the trees we'll have one day Of frolicsome employment; And birds shall sing and winds shall blow, To help us to enjoyment. Leave house affairs to shift awhile- I would not greatly care for life, Could not afford me now and then And Fate is kind to those who strive To make existence pleasant, With harmless joys and simple tastes, And kindness ever present. We'll not complain; so come away, And when we want a treasure, We'll use these May-day memories To buy forgotten pleasure. CHARLES MACKAY. WEDDED LOVE. THIS fair Bride In the devotedness of youthful love, On Devon's leafy shores; a sheltered hold, In a soft clime encouraging the soil To a luxuriant bounty! As our steps Approach th' embowered abode-our chosen seat- Of willingness with which they would unite. Winding away its never-ending line. On their smooth surface, evidence was none: But, there, lay open to our daily haunt, A range of unappropriated earth, Where youth's ambitious feet might move at large; Whence, unmolested wanderers, we beheld |