THE SHOP OF MEAT-WARE, OR WARES TO EAT 146

AUTUMN

THE long-lighted days begin to shrink,
And flowers are thin in mead among
The late-shooting grass, that shines along
Brook upon brook, and brink by brink.

The wheat, that was lately rustling thick.
Is now up in mows that still are new;
All yellow before the sky of blue,

Tip after tip, and rick by rick.

No starlings arise in flock on wing;

The cuckoo has still'd his woodland sound;

The swallow no longer wheels around,

Dip after dip, and swing by swing.

B

While shooters are roving round the knoll,

By wind-driven leaves on quiv'ring grass,

Or down where the sky-blue waters pass,
Fall after fall, and shoal by shoal;

Their brown-dappled pointers nimbly trot
By russet-bough'd trees, while gun-smoke grey
Dissolves in the air of sunny day,

Reef upon reef, at shot by shot.

While now I can walk a dusty mile,
I'll take me a day while days are clear,
To find a few friends that still are dear,
Face upon face, and smile by smile.

HOME FROM A JOURNEY

BACK home on my mare I took my way,
Through hour upon hour of waning day,
Where thistles on windy ledges shook,
And aspen leaves quiver'd o'er the brook,
By slope and by level ambling on,

Till day with the sunken sun was gone,
And out in the west a sheet of light

Was lingering pale-pale in the night.

At last, as my mare came snorting near

My dwelling, where all things near were dear,

The apples were swung in darksome balls,

And roses hung dark beside the walls,