The -ivorld is wiáe aWake to-day, Tlie hiziest drones are busthng, The brook slips by, tlie wind is gay, And every leal is rustliiig; This shady bank, 'ueath Beech and UaK, With liince-iike grasses bristles, And vou and I, two idle folk, Sit makiug willow whiitlos. Oh, heavenly sunshine of the May, Succuoding wmtev huary, What stade can shut its light away, Wiiat gioom resist its glory I Dowu ihruugii our ieaíy canopy I)art nir.ad go.dun missiies. And giïd tlie brüok, the bank, the tree, And e'en the wü.o-.v wlnstles. Such wealth of leaf ! such worlda of green I buch balín nu words eau utter ! And uli the Uirda that e er wore secn ilave gathered he.e io dutter: Tiiey pertiy per;b, with heads uwry Upun ti. e awaying tuist. os, Ana evideiitiy wun.icr why We'ro uiatiug wii.ow vvlnstles. How darc yoU, npinrade, trine so, In these grand torest templi And laufih, and ijeat yoiir Bappy bough, And tet uie bad examp'.es ! Sui-li S011.4S of praiM here anso As 11e er weru lound in üsaa.9. _ And we houki hearnen, were we wise, lnitlad oi makiug whlstles. They say the vrorld's a vale ot tears, And man is bom to trouble,- The words sound idly in my eurs lfcsida ie brooklet's bubb!e ; Friends chaise, I hear, and hopes grow pale, The fairest' project fizzles.- I'ra glad there's 110 such word as iaü, In making willow whistles. The brook shows back two hends of brown, ThOUgh one's a prettier color, Á Titian hue,- 110 need tn irowu, I've said not which is duller ; Thoy'll be the same, both yours and mine, Wheu time tlieir browouesa grizzles, And Uien we'll laugh at "Old Lang Syne, Wheu we made willow whistles.