To a Greek Girl Hidden papers in the dusty garret, Foaming cider in the glasses high. "Would she mingle with her young companions!" Vainly do her aunts and uncles say; Ever, from the village sports and dances, Early missed, Emilia slips away. Whither vanished? With what unimagined mates to play? Did they seek her, wandering by the water, Desdemona; Mariana of the Moated Grange. Up this valley to the fair and market When young farmers from the southward ride, In the meadows by the turnpike side; Deep in fancies of a fairy bride. Sarah N. Cleghorn [1876– TO A GREEK GIRL WITH breath of thyme and bees that hum, 347 Where'er you pass,-where'er you go, Not wholly dead!-Autonoë! How sweet with you on some green sod In vain,-in vain! The years divide: From under-lands of Memory,— Austin Dobson (1840 "CHAMBER SCENE” AN EXQUISITE PICTURE IN THE STUDIO OF A YOUNG ARTIST AT ROME SHE rose from her untroubled sleep, And put away her soft brown hair, As love's first whisper, breathed a prayer— Her blue eyes sheltered in the lid, The folded linen on her breast, Just swelling with the charms it hid; A Life-Lesson -And from her long and flowing dress Escaped a bare and slender foot, Whose shape upon the earth did press Like a new snow-flake, white and "mute"; | And there, from slumber pure and warm, Like a young spirit fresh from heaven, Oh God! if souls unsoiled as these Our loveliest and our purest one,- Day after day in her first years, Must kneel and pray for grace from Thee, Will our wild errors be forgiven! 349 Nathaniel Parker Willis [1806-1867] "AH, BE NOT FALSE" Ан, be not false, sweet Splendor! Be wise as thou art tender; Be all that Beauty should. Not lightly be thy citadel subdued; Not ignobly, not untimely, Take praise in solemn mood; Take love sublimely. Richard Watson Gilder [1844-1909] A LIFE-LESSON THERE! little girl, don't cry! They have broken your doll, I know; And your tea-set blue, And your play-house, too, Are things of the long ago; But childish troubles will soon pass by.- There! little girl, don't cry! They have broken your slate, I know; Of your school-girl days But life and love will soon come by.— There! little girl, don't cry! They have broken your heart, I know; And the rainbow gleams Are things of the long ago; But Heaven holds all for which you sigh.— There! little girl, don't cry! James Whitcomb Riley (1852-1916] THE MAN THE BREAKING THE LORD GOD SPEAKS TO A YOUTH BEND now thy body to the common weight: (But oh, that vine-clad head, those limbs of morn! Those proud young shoulders, I myself made straight! How shall ye wear the yoke that must be worn?) Look thou, my son, what wisdom comes to thee: How shall I sadden them to make them wise?) Nay, then, thou shalt! Resist not-have a care! Though I am God-to see thee so submit!) THE FLIGHT OF YOUTH THERE are gains for all our losses, We are stronger, and are better, Under manhood's sterner reign: |