The Translated Way

(Being a "lyric" translation of Heine's "Du Bist
Wie Eine Blume," as it is usually done.)


Thou art like to a Flower,
So pure and clean thou art;
I view thee and much Sadness
Steals to me in the Heart.

To me it seems my Hands I
Should now impose on your
Head, praying God to keep you
So fine and clean and pure.



"And Yet It Is A Gentle Art!"

(Parody is a genre frowned upon by your professors
of literature... And yet it is a gentle art--
"The Point of View" in May _Scribner's_.)


A sweet disorder in the verse
That never looks behind
Shall profit not who steals my purse,
Let joy be unconfined!