forth, and the day was done. The happy south-wind
was still, and the moon looked down on the world below, and watched
among the trees and hills, but all was still: the little south-wind
slumbered, and the moon and the stars kept guard,--poor, tired
south-wind! Old lady and maiden, young man and child, the dust and the
flowers, were forgotten, and he slept,--dear little south-wind!

LINES

WRITTEN AT THE CLOSE OF DR. HOLMES'S LECTURES ON ENGLISH POETRY.

[Footnote: The Poets are metaphorically introduced as follows.
ROGERS, _The Beech_; CAMPBELL, _The Fir_; BYRON, _The Oak_; MOORE,
_The Elm_; SCOTT, _The Chestnut_; SOUTHEY, _The Holly_; COLERIDGE,
_The Magnolia_; KEATS, _The Orange_; WORDSWORTH, _The Pine_; TENNYSON,
_The Palm_; FELICIA HEMANS, _The Locust_; ELIZABETH BARRETT
BROWNING, _The Laurel_.]

Farewell! farewell! The hours we've stolen
From scenes of worldly strife and stir,
To live with poets, and with thee,
Their brother and interpreter,

Have brought us wealth;--as thou hast reaped,
We have not followed thee in vain,
But gathered, in one precious sheaf,
The pearly flower and golden grain.

For twelve bright hours, with thee we walked
Within a magic garden's bound,
Where trees, whose birth owned various climes,
Beneath one sky were strangely found.

First in the group, an ancient BEECH
His shapely arms abroad did fling,
Wearing old Autumn's russet crown
Among the lively tints of Spring.

Those pale brown leaves the winds of March
Made vocal 'mid the silent trees,
And spread their faint perfume abroad,
Like sad, yet pleasant memories.

Near it, the vigorous, noble FIR
Arose, with firm yet graceful mien;
Welcome for shelter or for shade,
A pyramid of living green.

And from the tender, vernal spray
The sunny air such fragrance drew,
As breathes from fields of strawberries wild,
All bathed in morning's freshest dew.

The OAK his branches richly green
Broad to the winds did wildly fling;--
The first in beauty and in power,
All bowed before the forest-king.

But ere its brilliant leaves were sere,
Or scattered by the Autumn wind,
Fierce lightnings struck its glories down,
And left a blasted trunk behind.

A youthful ELM its drooping boughs
In graceful beauty bent to earth,
As if to touch, with reverent love,
The kindly soil that gave it birth;--

And round