A PORTRAIT
WHO is that young and gentle dame who
stands in yonder gilded frame,
Clad in a simple muslin gown whose 'broi-
dered frills hang limply down,
Blue ribbons in her yellow
curls, around her neck a string of pearls—
Her
eyes
blue stars in
ancient gloom, a-seeking you all o'er the room,
As if to call sweet memories to her?—
My grandmother, before I knew her.