Of these—the deep spiritual graces Which give unto life its divine, Transform with miraculous touches The water of being to wine, And quicken the sap of the human Till the drear places blossom and shine— She has crystalline caskets and coffers, God's angels are gladdened to give, And millionaired monarchs who live. And something about her most subtly Thus being so minded and bettered, The peace to the ache in my thought, All paths which the lady may travel, While the blue heavens brood softly above her, And the grass groweth greenly below. RICHARD REALF. MAUD AND MADGE. 201 Maud and Madge. HEY sat and combed their beautiful hair, THEY Their long bright tresses, one by one, As they laughed and talked in their chamber there, After the revel was done. Idly they talked of waltz and quadrille, Comb out their braids and curls. Robes of satin and Brussels lace, For the revel is through. And Maud and Madge in robes of white, Sit and comb their beautiful hair, Those wonderful waves of brown and gold, Then out of the gathering winter chill, Maud and Madge in robes of white, The prettiest night-gowns under the sun, Float along in a splendid dream, To a golden gittern's tinkling tune, While a thousand lusters shimmering stream In a palace's grand saloon, Flashing of jewels and flutter of laces, And one face shining out like a star, Telling through lips of bearded bloom Two and two they dreamily walk, O Maud and Madge, dream on together, Robed for the bridal and robed for the tomb, Braided brown hair and golden tress, There'll be only one of you left for the bloom Of the bearded lips to press. Only one for the bridal pearls, The robe of satin and Brussels lace Only one to blush through her curls TIME'S CHANGES. O beautiful Madge, in your bridal white! But for her who sleeps in your arms to-night The revel of Life is done! 203 But robed and crowned with your saintly bliss, O beautiful Maud, you'll never miss The kisses another hath won! NORA PERRY. I Time's Changes: SAW her once-so freshly fair, That like a blossom just unfolding, She opened to life's cloudless air, And Nature joyed to view its moulding: Should dim such sweet, delicious splendor? For in her mien, and in her face, And in her young step's fairy lightness, Nought could the raptured gazer trace I saw her twice-an altered charm, But still of magic richest, rarest, Than girlhood's talisman less warm, Upon her breast she held a child, The very image of its mother, Which ever to her smiling smiled— They seemed to live but in each other. But matron cares or lurking woe Her thoughtless, sinless look had banished, And from her cheeks the roseate glow Of girlhood's balmy morn had vanished; Within her eyes, upon her brow, Lay something softer, fonder, deeper, I saw her thrice-Fate's dark decree In widow's garments had arrayed her; As even my reveries portrayed her; Still, though I noted pale decay, The retrospect was scarcely bitter; That every louder mirth is folly- A fairy glow on flower and leaf, Till earth looks like a landscape dreaming. A last time--and unmoved she lay, From whence the spark had fled forever! When she, a girl, was lightsome-hearted— |