LOVE IS BLIND.
I.
From ancient Roma o’er the sea
This ring, sweet maid, I bring to thee.
Pray treasure it for friendship’s sake,
And prize the symbol it doth make.
A sweet suggestion would it lend,
For like my love it has no end;
These letters tell thee whence it came,
And proud it is to bear the name—
“Roma.”
II.
She clasped it ’tween her fingers fair;
In conscious pride it nestled there.
Upon its jeweled plates her eyes
Cast star-like beams in sweet surprise;
Then turned she with a modest smile,
And pointing at the ring meanwhile,
“Love, thou art blind,” the dear one said,
“Else wouldst thou read as I have read—
Amor!”
Jean La Rue Burnett.
