ROBERT PORTER ST. JOHN. Amherst Literary Monthly.
~When Margaret Laughs.~
When Margaret laughs the world is gay,
All care is driven far away;
Her hat aslant, with roguish air,
A red carnation in her hair—
True daughter of the merry May.
The rosebuds of a summer's day,
The modest flowers along her way,
All seem to have a grace more fair,
When Margaret laughs.
Oh, youth! for her so bright and gay,
Oh, years! that slip so fast away,
Keep her, I pray thee, fresh and fair,
Dainty, bewitching, debonair,
For life is but a holiday
When Margaret laughs.
GEORGE B. KILBOURNE. Williams Literary Monthly.
~The Captive.~
I've sought for Cupid by day and night,
But he always contrived to elude me,
And kept discreetly out of my sight,
Nor showed his face, the crafty wight,
Nor e'er for a moment sued me.
And often while for his face I sought
I thought with a thrill I had found him,
By my little wiles and my coaxing caught,
Or even for gold ignobly bought,
With his arrows and bow around him.
But now my pulse gives a fresh, wild start,
And a throb of joyous surprise, dear,
As I see him, armed with his subtle dart,
A fellow prisoner with my heart,
In the depths of your hazel eyes, dear.