Page 47 - Poetry-Romance

Replete with roses, round and ruddy;
She seemed to think the school a place
For strict deportment and for study.

In all the classes she was first;
She graduated,—went to college,
Returned most wonderfully versed
In every branch and twig of knowledge.
Alas! I wear no savant’s cap;
My brain is not a book-condenser!
No doubt she’ll marry that young chap
I hear her call “Dear Herbert Spencer!”

— Frank Dempster Sherman (Century Magazine, 1885)

The Tender Heart

She gazed upon the burnished brace
Of plump ruffed grouse he showed with pride;
Angelic grief was in her face:
“How could you do it, dear?” she sighed.
“The poor, pathetic, moveless wings!
The songs all hushed—oh, cruel shame!”
Said he, “The partridge never sings.”
Said she, “The sin is quite the same.

“You men are savage through and through.
A boy is always bringing in
Some string of birds eggs, white and blue,
Or butterfly upon a pin.
The angle-worm in anguish dies,
Impaled, the pretty trout to tease—”
“My own, we fish for trout with flies—”
“Don’t wander from the question, please!”

~ 45 ~