Do you hear the ocean moaning,
Ever moaning sad and low?
'Tis because that fat old bather
Stepped upon its undertow.
University Herald.
~A Decision.~
As a maid so nice,
With step precise,
Tripped o'er the ice,
She slipped; her care in vain.
And at the fall,
With usual gall,
The schoolboys call,
"Third down; two feet to gain."
ARTHUR LLEWELLYN ENO. Brunonian.
~The Thorn that Guards.~
Far in the corner on the stairs,
We were sitting together, she and I;
The murmuring music was soft and low,
Like zephyrs that float 'neath a summer sky.
She held in her fingers a deep red rose,
And was plucking the petals, one by one;
Her eyes were filled with the dreamy light
That softens the west when the day is done.
"Ah, Mildred, you are a bud yourself;
Its blushing sweetness is wholly thine;
Cannot you let me press the flower,
And keep it forever, and call it mine?"
The fair lips trembled, the dimples smiled,
Her eyes told clearly that I had lost;
But my heart still hoped, till she gently sighed,
"You forget what American Beauties cost."