VIRGINITY AND ITS TRADITIONS.
Chloe! Like a fawn she flees,
Trembling, timid mother-seeking,
Far among the trackless hills;
Starting back from bush and breeze,
When the new-born spring is speaking
To green leaves in little trills.
Oh, how shake her heart, her knees!
Run! A lizard sets a-creaking
That big bush! I bring no ills;