GERTRUDE CRAVEN. Smith College Monthly.
~Song.~
The April sun smiles bright above,
The skies are deep and blue,
I walk among the growing fields
And dream, sweetheart, of you.
And as I go, from out the wood
A mocking-bird calls clear,
"Sweetheart, sweetheart," and I turn,
Half hoping thou art here.
Alas! the sunlight floods the earth,
Yet all is dark to me;
The flowers may gaily bud and bloom,
The earth be fair to see;
And "sweetheart, sweetheart," evermore
The mocking-bird may sing,
But in a fairer land thine eyes
Are opening to the spring.
R.L. EATON. Morningside.
~The Effigy.~
And so she smiles!—Nor frown nor pout
That look divine can put to rout.
I would, my love, thou wert half
So constant as thy photograph!
P.P.S. Parthenon.
~Sotto Voce.~