The Sybil contains the following prose sketch—a caption of morning,and evening—very nicely done. Soft gray, amber, rose, then blue. Softly day creep the edge of the hills. A peep, then a twitter, a flutte wings. Brighter day grows, now crimson, now gold. wee feathered throats half burst with their song, "Day come! Day has come!" But, it stays not long. , Again it creeps to the edg the hills. Again it grows purple, rosy, gray. Again twitter, the peep-a-by song, 'with the whip-poor-will la the distance who sings, "Day is done! Day is done.." Come read this song with me, in the Williams Liter , Monthly. Then let us hie away to the lake and join in merry sport. You have heard the mighty roaring of the wind among the trees, You have seen its might tossing of the deep; Have you ever heard it coming when you crouched on bended knees, And an ice-boat had you fast within its keep? Have you ever heard the wind, The chilling, driVing wind, As it hastens from behind and never gains? Then it's go, go, go, Like an arrow from the bow, While the wild wind shrieks its icy note; With a broad, white field before you, And the driving snow blown o'er you, There is nothing now can head the wind-winged bo 4 4 4 SONG OF ICI-BOATING.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers