THE wind is without there and howls in the trees,

And the rain-flurries drum on the glass:

Alone by the fireside with elbows on knees

I can number the hours as they pass.

Yet now, when to cheer me the crickets begin,

And my pipe is just happily lit,

Believe me, my friend, tho’ the evening draws in,

That not all uncontested I sit.

Alone, did I say? O no, nowise alone

With the Past sitting warm on my knee,

To gossip of days that are over and gone,

But still charming to her and to me.

With much to be glad of and much to deplore,

Yet, as these days with those we compare,

Believe me, my friend, tho’ the sorrows seem more

They are somehow more easy to bear.

And thou............