“ LOVE is better than house or lands ;
So, Sir Stephen, I ’ll ride with thee ! ”
Quick she steps where the courser stands,
Light she springs to the saddle-tree.
Love is better than kith or kin :
So close she clung and so close clasped he,
They heard no sob of the bitter wind,
Nor the snow that shuddered along the lea.
Love is better than life or breath !
The drifts are over the horse’s knee ;
Softly they sink to the soft, cold death,
And the snow-shroud folds them silently.
Houses and lands are gone for aye,
Kith and kin like the wild wind flee,
Life and breath have fluttered away,
But love hath blossomed eternally.
Rose Terry.

VOL. XXXI. — NO. 185. 21