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December 15.

St. Eusebius, Bp. of Vercelli, A. D. 371. St. Florence, or Flann, Abbot.


There is a class of those who are said to "dearly love the lasses, oh?" by whom the verses below may be read without danger of their becoming worse.

A Winter Piece.

It was a winter's evening, and fast came down the snow,
And keenly o'er the wide heath the bitter blast did blow;
When a damsel all forlorn, quite bewilder'd in her way,
Press'd her baby to her bosom, and sadly thus did say:

"Oh! cruel was my father, that shut his door on me,
And cruel was my mother, that such a sight could see;
And cruel is the wintry wind, that chills my heart with cold;
But crueller than all, the lad that left my love for gold!

"Hush, hush my lovely baby, and warm thee in my breast;
Ah, little thinks thy father how sadly we're distrest!
For, cruel as he is, did he know but how we fare,
He'd shield us in his arms from this bitter piercing air.

"Cold, cold, my dearest jewel! thy little life is gone:
Oh! let my tears revive thee, so warm that trickle down;
My tears that gush so warm, oh! they freeze before they fall:
Ah! wretched, wretched mother! thou 'rt now bereft of all."

Then down she sunk despairing upon the drifted snow,
And, wrung with killing anguish, lamented loud her woe:
She kiss'd her babe's pale lips, and laid it by her side;
Then cast her eyes to heaven, then bow'd her head, and died.


Pitch Pine. Pinus resinosa.
Dedicated to St. Florence.