Volume Ii Part 73 (1/2)

CANDOR October--A Wood

I know what you're going to say,” she said, And she stood up, looking uncommonly tall: ”You are going to speak of the hectic fall, And say you're sorry the summer's dead, And no other summer was like it, you know, And can I imagine what made it so.

Now aren't you, honestly?” ”Yes,” I said.

”I know what you're going to say,” she said: ”You are going to ask if I forget That day in June when the woods were wet, And you carried me”--here she drooped her head-- ”Over the creek; you are going to say, Do I remember that horrid day.

Now aren't you, honestly?” ”Yes,” I said.

”I know what you're going to say,” she said: ”You are going to say that since that time You have rather tended to run to rhyme, And”--her clear glance fell, and her cheek grew red-- ”And have I noticed your tone was queer.

Why, everybody has seen it here!

Now aren't you, honestly?” ”Yes,” I said.

”I know what you're going to say,” I said: ”You're going to say you've been much annoyed; And I'm short of tact--you will say, devoid-- And I'm clumsy and awkward; and call me Ted; And I bear abuse like a dear old lamb; And you'll have me, anyway, just as I am.

Now aren't you, honestly?” ”Ye-es,” she said.

Henry Cuyler Bunner [1855-1896]

”DO YOU REMEMBER”

Do you remember when you heard My lips breathe love's first faltering word?

You do, sweet--don't you?

When, having wandered all the day, Linked arm in arm, I dared to say, ”You'll love me--won't you?”

And when you blushed and could not speak, I fondly kissed your glowing cheek, Did that affront you?

Oh, surely not--your eye expressed No wrath--but said, perhaps in jest, ”You'll love me--won't you?”

I'm sure my eyes replied, ”I will.”

And you believe that promise still, You do, sweet--don't you?

Yes, yes! when age has made our eyes Unfit for questions or replies, You'll love me--won't you?

Thomas Haynes Bayly [1797-1839]

BECAUSE

Sweet Nea!--for your lovely sake I weave these rambling numbers, Because I've lain an hour awake, And can't compose my slumbers; Because your beauty's gentle light Is round my pillow beaming, And flings, I know not why, to-night, Some witchery o'er my dreaming!

Because we've pa.s.sed some joyous days, And danced some merry dances; Because we love old Beaumont's plays, And old Froissart's romances!

Because whene'er I hear your words Some pleasant feeling lingers; Because I think your heart has cords That vibrate to your fingers.

Because you've got those long, soft curls, I've sworn should deck my G.o.ddess; Because you're not, like other girls, All bustle blush, and bodice!