And blest I deem that thou must be, so gifted, young, and fair,
Yet these alone fill not the heart if love be wanting there;
For hearts like ours, dear Edith May, need love as do the flowers
The breath of the caressing wind and heaven's genial showers:
And I would breathe a prayer to God to bless thy heart's young dream,
But with those peerless gifts of thine my prayer would idle seem.
Then fare-thee-well, young poetess! may not my waiting ear
List long in vain for that wild strain it loveth most to hear.
THE RIVER'S SECRET.
A lady sought the river's side at night,
A lovely lady, delicately fair;
With eyes and jewels gloriously bright,
And flowing robe, and flowing sable hair;
Fair was the lady beyond poesy,
Fairer than knight or minstrel ever dreamed;
Proud was the lady, as would lady be,
By all the land the Queen of Beauty deemed.
Unto the river's side she came alone,
That fair proud lady in the hush of night;
And kneeling 'neath the stars, began to moan,
Clasping her forehead with her fingers white;
"Oh, Harold, Harold! comest thou no more,
Even to mourn, where we so oft have met?
Ah, woe is me, the haughty Isadore,
When Harold proves the readiest to forget!"
Thus grieved the lady for her cruelty,
And called upon her Harold's name with tears;
But midnight came and parted silently,
