ILLEGITIMATE .

The maiden S PRING came laughing down the dales,
Her fair brows arched, and on her rosebud mouth,
The balm and beauty of the lustrous South;
Through soft green fields, from hills to happy vales,
She tripped, her small feet twinkling in the sun;
Her delicate finger raised with girlish mirth,
Pointed at graybeard Winter , who, in dearth,
Toiled toward his couch, his long day labor done;
Ah no, not done! for hark! a sudden wind,
Death-laden, sweeps from realms of arctic sky,
And blurred with storm, the morn grows crazed and blind;
Then, W INTER mocking, backward turns apace,
Where pallid Spring, all vainly strives to fly,
And with brute buffet scars her shrinking face!