A Given Day.

A dear old Cornish friend would often say When looking at a blue-topped winter sky And pointing out the view - - 'A given day This be - - a given day for we to try To understand the why this day be not The normal winter-grey, and be we glad Me 'ansome Cornish lass, that God forgot To wet our fields and lanes today with sad.' Then buxom Rosie smiled and playfully Waylaid me in her country-woman style By confiding God had hid a gift this day, A 'given' thing that if we searched would find. She then would bend to pick a primrose eyeing Us, and winking underneath a leaf - - 'The sun Be caught in this, and all coming Spring beside, - - Look lass, - - before this given thing be gone.'