Harvard Advocate.
~Strategy.~
Some, Cupid kills with arrows,
Some, with traps;
But this spring the little rascal
Found, perhaps,
That he needed both to slay me;
So he laid a cunning snare
On the hillside, and he hid it
In a lot of maidenhair;
And I doubt not he is laughing
At the joke,
For he made his arrows out of
Poison-oak.
CHARLES KELLOGG FIELD. Sequoia.
~Canoe Song.~
Dip! Dip! Softly slip
Down the river shining wide,
Dim and far the dark banks are;
Life is love and naught beside.
Onward, drifting with the tide.
Drip, drip, from paddle tip
Myriad ripples swirl and swoon;
Shiv'ring 'mid the ruddy stars,
Mirrored in the deep lagoon,
Faintly floats the mummied moon.
Soft, soft, high aloft,—
Ever thus till time is done,—
Worlds will die; may thou and I
Glide beneath a gentler sun,
Young as now and ever one.
E. FRÈRE CHAMPNEY. Harvard Advocate.
~A Rambling Rhyme of Dorothy.~