Come, O my friend! and share our festal month!
And while the west wind walks the leafy woods,
While orchard-blooms are white in all the lanes,
And brooks make music in the deep, cool dells,
Enjoy the golden moments as they pass,
And gain new strength for days that are to come.
James T. Fields.

OME

SUMMER WOODS.

ye into the summer woods; There entereth no annoy !

COM

All greenly wave the chestnut leaves,
And the earth is full of joy.

There, lightly swung, on bowery glades
The honeysuckles twine;
There blooms the rose-red campion

And the dark blue columbine.

There grows the four-leaved plant "True Love"

In some dusk woodland spot,

There grows the enchanter's nightshade,

And the wood forget-me-not.

And many a merry bird is there,
Unscared by lawless men;

The blue-winged jay, the woodpecker,
And the golden-crested wren.

Come down, and ye shall see them all,
The timid and the bold;

For their sweet life of pleasantness
It is not to be told.

And far within that summer wood
Among the leaves so green,
There flows a little gurgling brook,
The brightest e'er was seen.

There come the little gentle birds,
Without a fear of ill;

Down to the murmuring water's edge,

And freely drink their fill!

And dash about and splash about,

The merry little things;

And look askance with bright black eyes, And flirt their dripping wings.

I've seen the freakish squirrels drop

Down from their leafy tree,

The little squirrels with the old,

Great joy it was to me!

And down unto the running brook,

I've seen them nimbly go;

And the bright water seemed to speak
A welcome kind and low.

The nodding plants they bowed their heads
As if in heartsome cheer:

They spake unto these little things,
"'Tis merry living here!"

Oh, how my heart ran o'er with joy!
I saw that all was good,
And how we might glean up delight
All round us, if we would!

And many a wood-mouse dwelleth there
Beneath the old wood shade,
And all day long has work to do,

Nor is of aught afraid.

The green shoots grow above their heads,
And roots so fresh and fine

Beneath their feet; nor is there strife
'Mong them for mine and thine.

There is enough for every one,
And they lovingly agree:

We might learn a lesson, all of us,

Beneath the green-wood tree.

Mary Howitt.

UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE.

NDER the greenwood tree

UN

Who loves to lie with me,

And tune his merry note

Unto the sweet bird's throat,

Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see

No enemy,

But winter and rough weather.

Who doth ambition shun,
And loves to live i' the sun,
Seeking the food he eats,

And pleased with what he gets,

Come hither, come hither, come hither!
Here shall he see

No enemy,

But winter and rough weather.

Shakspeare

I

IN THE WOOD.

N the wood where shadows are deepest
From the branches overhead,

Where the wild wood-strawberries cluster,

And the softest moss is spread,

I met to-day with a fairy,

And I followed her where she led.

Some magical words she uttered,
I alone could understand,

For the sky grew bluer and brighter;
While there rose on either hand
The cloudy walls of a palace
That was built in Fairy-land.

And I stood in a strange enchantment;
I had known it all before :

In my heart of hearts was the magic
Of days that will come no more,

The magic of joy departed,

That Time can never restore.

That never, ah, never, never,
Never again can be:

Shall I tell you what powerful fairy
Built up this palace for me?
It was only a little white Violet
I found at the root of a tree.

Adelaide A. Procter.

A

THE RECLUSE.

FOUNTAIN issuing into light
Before a marble palace, threw
To heaven its column, pure and bright,
Returning thence in showers of dew;
But soon a humbler course it took,
And slid away a nameless brook.