Visions.

"She was a phantom," &c.     In lone Glenartney's thickets lies couched the lordly stag,     The dreaming terrier's tail forgets its customary wag;     And plodding ploughmen's weary steps insensibly grow quicker,     As broadening casements light them on towards home, or home-brewed liquor.     It is (in fact) the evening - that pure and pleasant time,     When stars break into splendour, and poets into rhyme;     When in the glass of Memory the forms of loved ones shine -     And when, of course, Miss Goodchild's is prominent in mine.     Miss Goodchild! - Julia Goodchild! - how graciously you smiled     Upon my childish passion once, yourself a fair-haired child:     When I was (no doubt) profiting by Dr. Crabb's instruction,     And sent those streaky lollipops home for your fairy suction!     "She wore" her natural "roses, the night when first we met" -     Her golden hair was gleaming 'neath the coercive net:     "Her brow was like the snawdrift," her step was like Queen Mab's,     And gone was instantly the heart of every boy at Crabb's.     The parlour-boarder chasseed tow'rds her on graceful limb;     The onyx decked his bosom - but her smiles were not for him:     With ME she danced - till drowsily her eyes "began to blink,"     And I brought raisin wine, and said, "Drink, pretty creature, drink!"     And evermore, when winter comes in his garb of snows,     And the returning schoolboy is told how fast he grows;     Shall I - with that soft hand in mine - enact ideal Lancers,     And dream I hear demure remarks, and make impassioned answers:-     I know that never, never may her love for me return -     At night I muse upon the fact with undisguised concern -     But ever shall I bless that day: (I don't bless, as a rule,     The days I spent at "Dr. Crabb's Preparatory School.")     And yet - we two MAY meet again - (Be still, my throbbing heart!) -     Now rolling years have weaned us from jam and raspberry tart:-     One night I saw a vision - 'Twas when musk-roses bloom     I stood - WE stood - upon a rug, in a sumptuous dining-room:     One hand clasped hers - one easily reposed upon my hip -     And "BLESS YE!" burst abruptly from Mr. Goodchild's lip:     I raised my brimming eye, and saw in hers an answering gleam -     My heart beat wildly - and I woke, and lo! it was a dream.