In fact, to speak in earnest, if I could work a charm,
I'd try it on old Isaacs—'twouldn't do him much of harm—
And I'd find an extra flavor in memory's mellow wine
When I thought of how I swapped him that old straw hat of mine.
VI.
A thing of real beauty, with a shape of airy grace,
Floats out of Isaacs' storehouse, as the genii from the vase,
And, oh! I gaze upon it with a pair of loving eyes,
As glowing as the summer and as tender as the skies!
* * * * *
VII.
But, ah! my dream is broken when I gaze upon that chair,
For my eyes are now wide open and—the same old hat is there;
And reluctantly and sadly all my visions I resign
To know that I must wear again that old straw hat of mine!
TOM BARBEE'S POND.
I.