He left her, and he turned aside:He sat and watched the coming tideAcross the shores so newly dried.He wondered at the waters clear,The breeze that whispered in his ear,The billows heaving far and near,And why he had so long preferredTo hang upon her every word:"In truth," he said, "it was absurd."
A Game of Fives
Five little girls, of Five, Four, Three, Two, One:Rolling on the hearthrug, full of tricks and fun.Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six:Sitting down to lessons – no more time for tricks.Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven:Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven!Five winsome girls, from Twenty to Sixteen:Each young man that calls, I say "Now tell me which you mean!"Five dashing girls, the youngest Twenty-one:But, if nobody proposes, what is there to be done?Five showy girls – but Thirty is an ageWhen girls may be engaging, but they somehow don't engage.Five dressy girls, of Thirty-one or more:So gracious to the shy young men they snubbed so much before!Five passe girls – Their age? Well, never mind!We jog along together, like the rest of human kind:But the quondam "careless bachelor" begins to think he knowsThe answer to that ancient problem "how the money goes"!
Poeta Fit, Non Nascitur
"How shall I be a poet?How shall I write in rhyme?You told me once 'the very wish
