I know I'm not faithful
As he is—but then,
Women are never as constant as men.
He'll never forgive me;
I know I'm to blame,
But he might have treated me some day the same.
WALTER TALLMADGE ARNDT. The Badger.
~To the Cigarette Girl.~
Your motions all are sweet and full of grace
As daintily you roll your cigarette;
You smoke it with a pretty puckered face
That I, a mortal man, can ne'er forget.
It's jolly fun when you adopt our sins;
Pray never fear of being thought a "poke."
Your every mood sincerest worship wins,
And yet I wish, my dear, you didn't smoke.
H. F. H. Amherst Literary Monthly,
~A Game of Chess.~
We played at chess one wintry night
Beside the fire, that warm and bright
Was mirrored in her hazel eyes;
Methought a gleam from Paradise
Outshone the back-log's flickering light.
The hand that took my queen was white,
I trembled at its gentle might;
Nor sweeter game could Love devise—
We played at chess.
I scarce could see to play aright,
I took a pawn and lost a knight,
And then she gazed with mild surprise—
She said I was not shrewd nor wise;
And yet, to me, with strange delight
We played at chess.