Eyebright, milkwort, cuckoo-shoes—
Till our baskets, overfull,
Many a precious bud must lose;
Till the sunset glory fell
On the blossoms in our hand,
And, with lingering glances, we
Bade farewell to Fairyland.
Florence Tylee.
The Conductor of Chambers’s Journal begs to direct the attention of Contributors to the following notice: