WHERE ARE THE SPRINGS OF LONG AGO?

Come near, O sun—O south wind, blow,
And be the winter's captives freed;
Where are the springs of long ago?

Drive under ground the lingering snow,
And up the greensward legions lead;
Come near, O sun—O south wind, blow!

Are these the skies we used to know,
The budding wood, the fresh-blown mead?
Where are the springs of long ago?

The breathing furrow will we sow,
And patient wait the patient seed;
Come near, O sun—O south wind, blow!

The grain of vanished years will grow,
But not the vanished years, indeed!
Where are the springs of long ago?

With sodden leafage, lying low,
They for remembrance faintly plead!
Come near, O sun—O south wind, blow!
Where are the springs of long ago?

Edith M. Thomas.

O jewel of the deep blue night!
Too soon, to-day, the moon arose,
I pray thee, lend thy lovely light.

Than any other star more bright
An hundred-fold, thy beauty glows,
O jewel of the deep blue night.

Too soon Selene gained the height,
And now no more her glory shows;
I pray thee, lend thy lovely light.

Anon our revel of delight
Towards the shepherd's dwelling goes,
O jewel of the deep blue night!

And I must lead the dance aright,
Yea—even I—for me they chose:
I pray thee, lend thy lovely light.

No thief am I, nor evil wight,
Nor numbered with the traveller's foes,
O jewel of the deep blue night!

None would I spoil, nor e'en affright,
Mine are the Lover's joys and woes;
I pray thee, lend thy lovely light.

For good it is, in all men's sight
(Thou knowest well) to favour those,
O jewel of the deep blue night!

Thy golden lamp hath turned to white
The silver of the olive-close;
O jewel of the deep blue night!
I pray thee, lend thy lovely light.

Graham R. Tomson.