Then haste, O, haste, to the country downs,
Where the valleys are sweet with joys,
And the soul grows young, and the heart is light,
And the bosom is like a boy's!




SPINSTERHOOD.


Alone, alone, in the twilight gray,
In the shadows so dark and dim,
I watch through all of the weary hours,
And I wait with my heart for him;
For him who'll come, when he comes at all,
As my king and warrior bold;
Whose form so tall is my fortress wall
And whose heart is a chunk of gold.

Again, again, do I dream the dreams,
All the dreams that my young heart knew,
And through my soul do the yearnings thrill
As of old they were wont to do;
I know in truth when his face I see,
I shall fall at his shining feet,
Where'er it be and whoever is he,
In the light of his glances sweet.