A GOOD-BY.


For love of the roving foot
And joy of the roving eye,
God send you store of morrows fair
And a good rest by and by!




IN A COPY OF BROWNING.


Browning, old fellow,
Your leaves grow yellow,
Beginning to mellow
As seasons pass.
Your cover is wrinkled,
And stained and sprinkled,
And warped and crinkled
From sleep on the grass.

Is it a wine stain,
Or only a pine stain,
That makes such a fine stain
On your dull blue,--
Got as we numbered
The clouds that lumbered