Iii

When the skies of December gray dripped and dripped, And icicles eaves of the big barn tipped, And loud hens flew over the snow or slipped, And the north wind hooted and bit and stung, And the ears of the milkmaid, Miriam, nipped, And the chappy cheeks of the farm boy whipped, A goddess unloosened the tongue, And one's mouth with wild honey was lipped.

IN THE SOUTH.