Margaret.
I saw her for a moment,
Her presence haunts me yet,
In oft-recurring visions
Of grace and gladness met
That marked the sweet demeanor
Of dainty Margaret.
Like gossamer her robe was
Around her lightly drawn,
A filmy summer-garment
That fairy maidens don
To make them look like angels
Croqueting on the lawn.
The mallet-sport became her
In hue of exercise
That tinged her cheek with roses;
And, dancing in her eyes,
Were pantomime suggestions
Of having won—a prize.
No more to me a stranger
Is she who occupies
A place in all my musings;
And brings in tender guise
A thought of one so like her—
Long years in Paradise.
Dear Margaret! that "pearl-name"
Is thine—and may it be
The synonym of goodness,
Of truth and purity,
And all ennobling graces
Exemplified in thee.
Christmas Bells.
Ring out, O bells, in joyful chime!
Again we hail the Christmas time;
In melting, mellow atmosphere,
The crown and glory of the year.