Bygones. When we went bilb’rry picking On the hill side, you and I, In the golden summer weather, ’Mong the honey-scented heather ’Neath the blue, just cloud-fleck’d sky ; How we clamour’d and made merry When our fingers, purple stained, Met above the dewy berry, Fought for it till none remained. Was there ever such heart laughter In those happy summer days ? Our spirits loosed to madness, With wild unthinking gladness, That can never come hereafter In life’s wind-swept wild’ring ways. Once again I climb the hill top, Sink my knees among the fern, See the yellow tented wheat crop In the golden sunset burn. Other boys and girls are roaming Thro’ the bilb’rry bushes by, Plucking berries with stain’d fingers Whilst the dying sunlight lingers, Just as we did—you and I. Comes their laughter from the distance Wafted to me, where I stand Thinking of a past existence In my boyhood’s fairy land. Gently gliding comes the twilight, Blinks a star from out the blue— Ah—how bounded is my insight, Here am I——but where are you ? H. A. H.