POSSESSION. 87 Where our children are bred to fulfil, William Barnes. POSSESSION. T was our wedding day, A month ago, dear heart, I hear you say, passed, I know not: I have ceased to question Time. I only know that once there pealed a chime Of joyous bells, and then I held you fast, And all stood back, and none my right denied, And forth we walked: the world was free and wide Before us. Since that day I count my life: the Past is washed away. It was no deam, that vow: It was the voice that woke me from a dream, now, And drink the splendor of a sun supreme 88 POSSESSION. That turns the mist of former tears to gold. Within these arms I hold The fleeting promise, chased so long in vain : Ah, weary bird! thou wilt not fly again; Thy wings are clipped, thou canst no more depart; Thy nest is builded in my heart! I was the cresent; thou : The silver phantom of the perfect sphere, Held in its bosom in one glory now Our lives united shine, and many a year – Not the sweet moon of bridal only we One lustre, ever at the full, shall be: Unite our cloven halves of destiny. God knew His chosen time; He bade me slowly ripen to my prime, And from my boughs withheld the promised fruit, Till storm and sun gave vigor to the root. Secure, O Love! secure Thy blessing is: I have thee day and night; Thou art my blood, my life, my light; God's mercy thou, and therefore shalt endure! Bayard Taylor. MY AIN KIND DEARIE O. HEN o'er the hill the eastern star Tells bughtin'-time' is near, my jo; And owsen frae the furrowed field, Return sae dowf3 and weary O; Down by the burn, where scented birks, Wi' dew are hanging clear, my jo, I'll meet thee on the lea-rig,* My ain kind dearie O. In mirkest glen, at midnight hour, Altho' the night were ne'er sae wild, The hunter lo'es the morning sun, 1 The time of collecting the sheep in the pens to be 90 MATERNITY. Gie me the hour o' gloamin" gray, My ain kind dearie O. Robert Burns. MATERNITY. EIGH-HO! daisies and buttercups, Fair yellow daffodils, stately and tall! When the wind wakes how they rock in the grasses, And dance with the cuckoo-buds, slender and small! Here's two bonny boys, and here's mother's own lasses, Eager to gather them all, Heigh-ho! daisies and buttercups! Mother shall thread them a daisy chain; Sing them a song of the pretty hedge-sparrow That loved her brown little ones, loved them full fain; Sing, "Heart thou art wide, though the house be but narrow," Sing once, and sing it again. 1 1 Twilight. MATERNITY. 91 Heigh-ho! daisies and buttercups, Sweet wagging cowslips, they bend and A ship sails afar over warm ocean waters, prow: O, bonny brown sons, and, O, sweet little daughters, Maybe he thinks on you now! Heigh-ho! daisies and buttercups, Fair young daffodils, stately and tall- Send down on their pleasure smiles passing its |