Or sliders, one that totters slack

Of limb; and one that's on his back;

And one upright that keeps his track,
Have fun in winter weather.

When we at night, in snow and gloom,
May seek some neighbour's lighted room,
Though snow may show no path before

The house, we still can find the door,

And there, as round the brands may spread

The creeping fire, of cherry red,

Our feet from snow, from wind our head,

Are warm in winter weather.

Wherever day may give our road,
By hills or hollows oversnow'd,
By windy gaps, or shelter'd nooks,
Or bridgèd ice of frozen brooks,

Still may we all, as night may come,
Know where to find a peaceful home,

And glowing fire for fingers numb
With cold, in winter weather.

THE BARS ON THE LANDRIDGE

THE bars on the timber'd ridge outspan

The gap where the shining skies may show
The people that clamber to and fro,

Woman by woman, man by man.

To strangers that once may reach the gap,
How fair is the dell beyond the ridge,

With houses and trees, and church and bridge,

Wood upon wood, and knap by knap.

Down here may be pleasant ways to rove,

But oh! 'tis another place behind

The bars, that would take the most my mind,

Orchard by orchard, grove by grove.

22

THE BARS ON THE LANDRIDGE

When under the moon, the bars' smooth ledge,

Rubb'd up to a gloss, is bright as glass,

And shadows outmark, on dewy grass,

Rail upon rail, and edge by edge.

Then there is my way, where nightwinds sound
So softly on boughs, where lights and shades

Are playing on slopes, by hills and glades,
Tree upon tree, and mound by mound.

THE STREAM SIDE

I SAT a little while beside

A greystoned rock, the rugged brow
Of our clear pool, where waters glide
By leaning tree and hanging bough;
In fall, when open air was cool,

And skimming swallows left the pool,

And glades in long-cast shades did lie

Below the yet clear sky.

The leaves that through the spring were gay,

Were now by hasty winds that shook

Them wither'd off their quiv'ring spray,

All borne away along the brook,