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Show ENGAGED. Beside tbe sea I walked with her, A maid so passing fair, I envied the autumn sun That lingered in her hair. Nut brown her cheeks, slender her hand. Her dark eyes hazel gray. It seemed an angel just from heaven Did walk with me that day. Her profile pure against the blue. Clear like a careen gem. Oh, never regal brow Wore such a diadem The breeze caressed her sacred cheek And fragrant with her breath Forgot its mission to the land And died a blissful death. A wanton spray of golden rod That dared to kiss her hand My keepsake la. She does not know; She cannot understand. Mine Is the memory of that hoar; Mine Is that setting sun Tbe light that lived, the breeze that died. The single star that shone. Oh, gentle maiden, passing fair. How little can yon guess The costly tribute that I pay To your sweet loveliness! My promise true another holds. Beside a distant shore. I could not love thee, dear, eo much Loved I not honor more." Boston Transcript, |