Beneath her window, and her name was like
The silvery pealing of a tinkling bell;
(Perhaps 'tis yours, fair reader,) "Clairinelle."
May sat beside her with a graver air,
Something more matronly controlled her mien;
Yet was she not a sighing "sentimentalist,"
But, like her cousin Cary, could be gay:
Two Valentines had come for these fair girls,
Which made the dimpled smiles show teeth like pearls
Pray, read those tender missives—here they are—