Fraser's Magazine (Volume 100) (Paperback)

Book may have numerous typos, missing text, images, or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1879. Excerpt: ... In All Labour There Is Profit. We tread the grapes, but shall not drink the wine. All through the hazy hours of autumn heat The red juice foams around our weary feet, Our garments blush with many a purple sign; But not for us, who trained the meagre vine To fruitful strength, this vintage shall be sweet; We shall not join the banqueters who meet When these rich drops through glowing crystal shine. Not for our lips the draught our hands prepare; But when slow time has ripened it, and when Its mellow warmth makes glad the hearts of men, May we, the husbandmen, in spirit share The feasters' joys, which we with painful care Laid up for them in years before their ken. The Fountains Of Love. Two fountains mingle in the tide of love Their sweet and bitter waters, with a sound Wherein the notes of joy and pain are found, As in low pleadings of a mated dove; And o'er the banks through which those waters move A tangled bower of diverse growth is wound, Where, mixed with honeysuckle rosy-crowned, The cruel nightshade hangs the stream above. And whoso plucks the flowers of morning glow Holds also in his hand the flowers of woe, Their intertwisted stems so closely meet; And whoso tastes the waters as they flow, Ere yet his thirst is quenched shall hardly know The bitter fountain's flavour from the sweet. Unhoped Delight. I Chose the fairest nook of garden soil, And covered warm within its natal bed The seed, wherefrom, with dew and sunlight fed, I hoped should rise the offspring of my toil, My promised flower, my golden cinquefoil. But when the soft green leaflets upward spread, The shoot that should have borne the queenly head Shrank, nipped and brown, the frost's untimely spoil. Long hours I wept, and made my passionate moan, Till morn came trembling through the tearful night, And lo a peerle...