Part 21 (1/2)

A SONG OF FAIRIES

Oh, the beauty of the world is in this garden, I hear it stir on every hand.

See how the flowers keep still because of it!

hear how it trembles in the blackbird's song!

There is a secret in it, a blessed mystery.

I fain would weep to feel it near me, my eyes grow dim before these unseen wings.

And the secret is in other places, it is in songs and music and all lovers' hearts.

Hush now, and walk on tiptoe, for these are fairy things.

ELIZABETH KIRBY

A SONG TO BELINDA

Belinda in her dimity, Whereon are wrought pink roses, Trips through the boxwood paths to me, A-down the garden-closes, As though a hundred roses came, ('Twas so I thought) to meet me, As though one rosebud said my name And bent its head to greet me.

Belinda, in your rose-wrought dress You seemed the garden's growing; The tilt and toss o' you, no less Than wind-swayed posy blowing.

'Twas so I watched in sweet dismay, Lest in that happy hour, Sudden you'd stop and thrill and sway And turn into a flower.

THEODOSIA GARRISON

SWEETHEART-LADY

De roses lean ter love her an' des won't leave de place; De climbin' mawnin'-glories sweet-smilin' in her face; De twinklin' pathway know her an' seem ter pa.s.s de word, An' de South Win' singin' ter her ter match de mockin'-bird.

She sweetheart ter de Springtime, W'en de dreamy roses stir, An' Winter s.h.i.+ne lak' Summer An' wear a rose fer her.

”Sweetheart!” sing de Medder, w'en lak' de light she pa.s.s; De River take de tune up: ”Make me yo' lookin'-gla.s.s!”

But des who her true lover she never let 'em know; De Win' is sich a tell-tale, an' de River run on so!

But Springtime come a-courtin'

An' let de blossoms fall, An' Summer say: ”I loves you!”

She sweetheart ter 'em ALL!

FRANK L. STANTON

HEART'S GARDEN

I have a garden filled with many flowers: The mignonette, the sweet-pea, and the rose, Daisies, and daffodils, whose color glows The fairer for the verdure which embowers Their beauty, and sets forth their hidden powers To charm my heart, whenever at the close Of day's dull hurry I would seek repose In my still garden through the darkening hours.

Thus, Lady, do I keep a place apart, Wherein my love for you cloistered shall be, Far from the rattle of the city cart, Even as my garden, where daily I may see The flowers of your love, and none from me May win the hidden secret of my heart.

NORREYS JEPHSON O'CONOR

A ROSE LOVER

Do thou, my rose, incline Thy heart to mine.