Forget not, while ye tramp with tread sonorous
The unclothed stairs and catch my weed's perfume,
That three mild spinsters had the house before us;
This was their morning-room.
Evoe.
A quotation in The Edinburgh Evening Dispatch of a verse of Mr. Robert Bridges' new poem ends like this:—
"From numbing stress and gloom profound
Madest escape in life desirous
To embroider her thin-spun robe."
[PARAGRAPH ADVERTISEMENT.]
'WHO'S THE LADY?'"
Perhaps the Poet Laureate will answer.