What if I kissed her? Jealous they
Who scoff at buyers in true love's mart.
Who can my sound good sense gainsay
If I confess I lost my heart?
GUY WETMORE CARRYL.
_Columbia Spectator_.
~Perdita.~
'Twas only a tiny, withered rose,
But it once belonged to Grace.
The goody didn't know that, I suppose--
'Twas only a tiny, withered rose,
No longer sweet to the eye or nose,
So she tossed it out from the Dresden vase.--
'Twas only a tiny, withered rose,
But it once belonged to Grace.
_Harvard Advocate_.
~Strategy.~
Some, Cupid kills with arrows,
Some, with traps;
But this spring the little rascal
Found, perhaps,
That he needed both to slay me;
So he laid a cunning snare
On the hillside, and he hid it
In a lot of maidenhair;
And I doubt not he is laughing
At the joke,
For he made his arrows out of
Poison-oak.
CHARLES KELLOGG FIELD.
_Sequoia_.
~Canoe Song.~
Dip! Dip! Softly slip
Down the river shining wide,
Dim and far the dark banks are;
Life is love and naught beside.
Onward, drifting with the tide.
Drip, drip, from paddle tip
Myriad ripples swirl and swoon;
Shiv'ring 'mid the ruddy stars,
Mirrored in the deep lagoon,
Faintly floats the mummied moon.
Soft, soft, high aloft,--
Ever thus till time is done,--
Worlds will die; may thou and I
Glide beneath a gentler sun,
Young as now and ever one.
Pages:
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45