POETRY
ARCADIAN
We will buy an old house And since at ten-forty
when we are richer ; each clock will be set, one to arouse time must report by the pen of an etcher : the twinkling bat, seeming—so mellow— by thrushes' orison, to have grown from the birch-leaf's fall, sown in a hollow ries on with birches around. lichened wall.
Under an oaken Not that we'd bother quiet of beams with seasons or clocks, by the years unshaken while our hearts shone to- we'll dream our dreamt. gether Beyond the lintel in love's equinox.
we'll see a mere Our youth, poised finely keeping its crystal thus, would believe silences near ; that age can be only whence for our drink midsummer eve.
will flow a freshet with primrOsed brink, DAY LEWIS. and coo like a cushat. ground, and the plumpening of cher-
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