 | Forest buds, from the woods of Maine |  |
180
PICTURES OF MEMORY.
Among the beautiful dresses
Which hang on the wardrobe wall,
There is one of simple muslin
That seemeth the best of all;
Not for the waist's trim fitting,
Not for the sleeves' full flow,
Not for the neat little figures
Which sprinkle the skirt below,—
Not for its pretty pattern
Of roses under a hedge,
Not for its graceful flounces
With nicely embroidered edge,—
Not for the folds on the boddice
Where the satin buttons rest,
Nor the lace, nor the bows of ribbon,
It seemeth to me the best.
I once had a darling sister
With eyes that were dark and deep,
And hers was this dress of muslin
Which sacredly now I keep.
Light as the down that dances
Where the dandelions grow,
We roved through our happy childhood,
The summers of long ago,
Till she stood at the marriage altar
On one of the autumn eves,
In a robe of embroidered satin
With very extensive sleeves.
Which hang on the wardrobe wall,
There is one of simple muslin
That seemeth the best of all;
Not for the waist's trim fitting,
Not for the sleeves' full flow,
Not for the neat little figures
Which sprinkle the skirt below,—
Not for its pretty pattern
Of roses under a hedge,
Not for its graceful flounces
With nicely embroidered edge,—
Not for the folds on the boddice
Where the satin buttons rest,
Nor the lace, nor the bows of ribbon,
It seemeth to me the best.
181
With eyes that were dark and deep,
And hers was this dress of muslin
Which sacredly now I keep.
Light as the down that dances
Where the dandelions grow,
We roved through our happy childhood,
The summers of long ago,
Till she stood at the marriage altar
On one of the autumn eves,
In a robe of embroidered satin
With very extensive sleeves.
Sweetly her white arms folded
My neck in a meek embrace,
As the snowy veil of the bridal
Silently covered her face.
Oh, my heart has been very lonely,
And our home has lost its light,
Since she fell, in her saint-like beauty,
In love with that college wight!
Therefore of all the dresses
Thet hang on the wardrobe wall,
The one of simple muslin
Seemeth the best of all!
My neck in a meek embrace,
As the snowy veil of the bridal
Silently covered her face.
Oh, my heart has been very lonely,
And our home has lost its light,
Since she fell, in her saint-like beauty,
In love with that college wight!
Therefore of all the dresses
Thet hang on the wardrobe wall,
The one of simple muslin
Seemeth the best of all!
| Forest buds, from the woods of Maine | |