EMILIA HALFWAY up the Hemlock valley turnpike, Flower of the fields of Camlet Farm. Sitting sewing by the western window Shadowing her gray, enchanted eyes? When the freshets flood the Silver Water, When the swallow flying northward braves Sleeting rains that sweep the birchen foothills Where the windflowers' pale plantation waves(Fairy gardens Springing from the dead leaves in their graves),— Falls forgotten, then, Emilia's needle; Ancient ballads, fleeting through her brain, Seems to brighten through the gusty rain. Forth she goes, in some old dress and faded, Kilted are her skirts to clear the mosses, Of the damsel-errant Rosalind. While she helps to serve the harvest supper In her ear the airy voices call. 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, Mariana of the Moated Grange. Up this valley to the fair and market When young farmers from the southward ride, Oft they linger at a sound of chanting In the meadows by the turnpike side; Long they listen, Deep in fancies of a fairy bride. Ellen Angus French [18 TO A GREEK GIRL WITH breath of thyme and bees that hum, In lines of unspoiled symmetry; 333 Where'er you pass,-where'er you go, Where'er you go,-where'er you pass, 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, And, in a tone as low and deep As love's first whisper, breathed a prayer— Her snow-white hands together pressed, 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 Like a new snow-flake, white and "mute"; Like a young spirit fresh from heaven, Oh God! if souls unsoiled as these Our loveliest and our purest one,- Must kneel and pray for grace from Thee, Will our wild errors be forgiven! 335 Nathaniel Parker Willis [1806-1867] “AH, BE NOT FALSE” Ан, be not false, sweet Splendor! Be true, be good; 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 Of your youthful dreams Are things of the long ago; But Heaven holds all for which you sigh. There! little girl, don't cry! James Whitcomb Riley [1852 |