POEMS.

��LVIII. RETROSPECT.

"~P WAS just this time last year I died.

• I know I heard the corn,

When I was carried by the farms,

It had the tassels on.

I thought how yellow it would look When Richard went to mill ;

And then I wanted to get out, But something held my will.

I thought just how red apples wedged The stubble's joints between ;

And carts went stooping round the fields To take the pumpkins in.

I wondered which would miss me least, And when Thanksgiving came,

If father 'd multiply the plates To make an even sum.

�� �