Poems . Through groves he wandered, and by streams,Playing the music of our dreams. The second, with a bearded face,Stood singing- in the market place,And stirred with accents deep and loudThe hearts of all the listening crowd. THE SINGERS. I , I 5 I ! I] - -. , ,/. j: r-rtf A gray, old man, the third and last,Sang in cathedrals dim and vast,While the majestic organ rolledContrition from its mouths of gold. And those who heard the Singers threeDisputed which the best might he;For still their music seemed to startDiscordant echoes in each heart. 174 BY THE FIRESIDE.

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