And mates us with the darkness. Well, 'tis well!
TWO COUNTRY SONNETS.
I.—THE CONTRAST
But yester e'en the city's streets I trod
And breathed laboriously the fervid air;
Panting and weary both with toil and care,
I sighed for cooling breeze and verdant sod.
This morn I rose from slumbers calm and deep,
And through the casement of a rural inn,