140 SELECT POETRY

We hope for an evening of heart’s content

In the winter of life, without lament

That summer is gone, or its hours misspent,
And the harvest is past recall.

Miss Gould.

TO A CHILD, AFTER AN INTERVAL
' OF ABSENCE.

I miss thee from my side,

With thy merry eyes and blue
From thy crib, at morning tide,

Oft its curtains peeping through—
In the kisses, not a few,

Thou wert wont to give me then;
In the sleepy, sad adieu,

When ’twas time for bed again!

I miss thee from my side,

With thy query oft repeated ;
On thy rocking-horse astride,

Or beneath my table seated ;—
Or, when tired and overheated

With a summer day’s delight,
Many a childish aim defeated,

Sleep hath overpowerd thee quite !

I miss thee from my side,
When the light of day grows pale;
When, with eyelids opened wide,
Thou wouldst list the oft-told tale,