BY NOBA. PEBBY. I. ANTICIPATION. " I'Il take the orchard path," she saiil, Speaking lowly, smiling slowly : The brook was driod within its bed, The hot aun flung a name of red Low in the West, as forth she sped. Across the dried brook-course she went, Singing lowly, smiliug slowly : She scarcely saw the sun that spent It's fiery force in swiit descent - She uever saw the wheat was bent, The grasses parched, the blossoms dried : Singing lowly, smihng slowly, Her eyes ainidst the drouth espied A summer pleasance far and wide, With roses and sweet violet pied. II. EISAPPOINTMENT. But homeward coming all the way, Sighing lowly, pacing slowly, She knew the bent wheat withering lay, She saw the blossoms dry decay, She missed the little brooklets play. A breeze had sprang from out the South, But, sighiug lowly, pacing slowly, She ouly feit the burning drouth ; Her eyes were hot, and parched lier moutli ; Yet sweet the wind blew from the South ! And when tho wind brought welcome rain, Still sighing lowly, pacing slowly, She never saw the lifting grain, But only - a lone orchard lane, Where she had waited all in vain !