No More Learning

And the judge will hang the prisoner
'For a cowardly cruel deed. '. . .
Murder! --excuse my laughing! . . .
It's a kind of catch in the breath. . . .
'But there's words more harsh than a rope is
And looks more bitter than death. '

"Murder!
My Lud, if ever
Their ledgers are balanced true
Which of the pair? . . . Oh! I reckon
That she killed something too.
. . . Is it the scent of a woman's hair
Or the scent of new-mown hay? . . .
Don't stand there shaking and staring,
For God's sake take me away. "




REFLECTIONS.




The Wind and the Hills.