I Ne'er Was Struck Before That Hour

The Snow Has Left The Cottage Top; The Thatch Moss Grows In Brighter Green; And Eaves In Quick Succession Drop, Where Grinning Icicles Have Been, Pit-patting With A Pleasant Noise In Tubs Set By The Cottage Door; While Duck And Geese, With Happy Joys, Plunge In The Yard Pond Brimming Over. The Sun Peeps Through The Window Pane: Which Children Mark With Laughing Eye, And In The Wet Street Steal Again To Tell Each Other Spring Is Night.

Old Noted Oak! I Saw Thee In A Mood Of Vague Indifference; And Yet With Me Thy Memory, Like Thy Fate, Hath Lingering Stood For Years, Thou Hermit, In The Lonely Sea Of Grass That Waves Around Thee!

Old April Wanes, And Her Last Dewy Morn Her Death-bed Steeps In Tears; To Hail The May New Blooming Blossoms Neath The Sun Are Born, And All Poor April's Charms Are Swept Away.

I Hid My Love When Young Till I Couldn't Bear The Buzzing Of A Fly; I Hid My Life To My Despite Till I Could Not Bear To Look At Light: I Dare Not Gaze Upon Her Face But Left Her Memory In Each Place; Where'er I Saw A Wild Flower Lie I Kissed And Bade My Love Good-bye.

If Life Had A Second Edition, How I Would Correct The Proofs.