Kitobni o'qish: «How She Felt in Her First Corset, and Other Poems», sahifa 4

THE BABY'S CLOTHES

 
Let poets praise, as in days gone by,
The wealth of a loving maiden's sigh;
The bliss ecstatic of every bride,
And honeymoon pleasures that ne'er subside;
I sing of a happier time than those,
The time when making the baby's clothes.
 
 
A girlish heart may o'erflow with joy
When with the one she would call "her boy,"
And a doting wife may fail to cloy
A heart kept free from every alloy;
But joys surpassing the sweetest of those
Come when preparing the baby's clothes.
 

A SISTER'S LOVE

 
They say that the angels look down from above
And watch us wherever we stray;
That they are the beings that guide us in love
And bring us the joys of the day.
 
 
I am glad it is so, and thank them to-night
For the wealth of a sister's love,
For of all the pleasures they bring to as here
That's nearest the joys above.
 
 
I've felt so real often as in my arms
I've clasped her form and kissed her;
But the girl that I kissed was not my own,
She was another fellow's sister.
 

A SCHOOL-MA'AM'S STORY

 
I was a teacher then, as now,
And made a little spending money.
By training big and little sprouts,
In a mining town called Pony.
 
 
One night the biggest boy I had,
For having cracked a rigid rule,
Was bade to stay and con his books
Some fifteen minutes after school.
 
 
I for a moment turned my back —
On other duties then intent —
The fellow slyly raised a sash
And through the opening quickly went.
 
 
Next eve, as extra punishment,
I gave him minutes forty-five;
And, lest he play the prank again,
I kept my every sense alive.
 
 
The task performed, he left the room; —
The sun was shining then, no more, —
And when, soon afterwards, I left,
I found him waiting at the door.
 
 
"'Tis getting late," the youth remarked,
"For ladies to be out alone,
And, may I have the pleasure, Miss,
Of seeing that you're safely home?"
 
 
I smiled and took the gallant's arm,
What else could anybody do?
I've liked the fellow ever since
And have no doubt he likes me too.
 

TRUE LOVE

 
Ask of the winds, that all around
In saddest requiem blow,
Wherein, and where alone, is found
True happiness below;
And when "in love" their answer is,
Would you love's secret know?
Consider both have equal rights,
And treat each other so.
 
 
Thus sang a poet months ago,
As o'er the world he roamed
And saw the home of dearest friends,
To desolation doomed;
A home where, years before, the bride
With heart of joy and glee,
Had welcomed to her heart's embrace
A bud of misery.
 
 
"A bud of misery," you say?
Yes, thinking it a rose,
And little dreaming that its folds
No fragrance did enclose:
But so the after years have shown,
And blighted hearts are found
Where once affection reigned supreme,
And spread its joys around.
 
 
He loved her, but he never thought
That love should be expressed,
And slights that caused her keenest pain,
He never once redressed;
To me he often wished he'd been
To her a better man;
But urged to tell his wife as much,
He would not brook the plan.
 
 
Oh, ye! on whom some heart depends,
For all its store of bliss,
Withhold not from that tender soul
The loving word and kiss;
But, give expression to your love,
And make its bliss complete,
By giving those within your home
Unfettered love to greet.