The happy birds, loud singing overhead;
The glorious range of distant shade and light,
In blue perspective, rapturous to our sight,
Weary of draperied curtains folding round,

And the monotonous chamber's narrow bound;

With,-best of all, the consciousness at length,

In every nerve of sure returning strength :

Long the dream stayed to cheer that darkened

room,

That this should be the end of all that gloom!

Long, as the vacant life trained idly by,

She pressed her pillow with a restless sigh,

To-morrow, surely, I shall stronger feel!"

To-morrow! but the slow days onward steal, And find her still with feverish aching head, Still cramped with pain; still lingering in her bed

;

Still sighing out the tedium of the time;
Still listening to the clock's recurring chime,
As though the very hours that struck were foes,
And might, but would not, grant complete

repose.

Until the skilled physician,-sadly bold

From frequent questioning,—her sentence told! That no good end could come to her faint yearning,

That no bright hour should see her health return

ing,

That changeful seasons,-not for one dark year, But on through life,-must teach her how to

bear:

For through all Springs, with rainbow-tinted

showers,

And through all Summers, with their wealth of

flowers,

And every Autumn, with its harvest-home,

And all white Winters of the time to come,

Crooked and sick for ever she must be:
Her life of wild activity and glee

Was with the past, the future was a life
Dismal and feeble; full of suffering; rife
With chill denials of accustomed joy,

Continual torment, and obscure annoy.

Blighted in all her bloom,-her withered frame
Must now inherit age; young but in name.
Never could she, at close of some long day
Of pain that strove with hope, exulting lay
A tiny new-born infant on her breast,

And, in the soft lamp's glimmer, sink to rest,
The strange corporeal weakness sweetly blent
With a delicious dream of full content;

With pride of motherhood, and thankful prayers,
And a confused glad sense of novel cares,

And peeps into the future brightly given,

As though her babe's blue eyes turned earth to

heaven!

Never again could she, when Claud returned

After brief absence, and her fond heart yearned To see his earnest eyes, with upward glancing, Greet her known windows, even while yet adyancing,

Fly with light footsteps down the great hall

stair,

And give him welcome in the open air

As though she were too glad to see him come,

To wait till he should enter happy home,

And there, quick-breathing, glowing, sparkling

stand,

His arm round her slim waist; hand locked in

hand;

The mutual kiss exchanged of happy greeting,

While, giving welcome also in their way,

Her dogs barked rustling round him, wild with

play;

And voices called, and hasty steps replied,

And the sleek fiery steed was led aside,

And the grey seneschal came forth and smiled,
Who held him in his arms while yet a child;
And cheery jinglings from unfastened doors,
And vaulted echoes through long corridors,
And distant bells that thrill along the wires,
And stir of logs that heap up autumn fires,
Crowned the glad eager bustle that makes known

The Master's step is on his threshold-stone !

Never again those rides so gladly shared,

So much enjoyed,—in which so much was dared
To prove no peril from the gate or brook,-