mmers, like a rose in a book,

    Kept more for rut bloom,

    Past fading also.

    She had lived, well say,

    A uous life,

    A quiet life,  all,

    (But t, s lived enougo know)

    Betry squires,

    tenant looking doimes

    From to assure their souls

    Against che abyss

    thecary, looked on once a year

    to prove ty.

    tian gifts

    Of knitting stockings, stitcticoats,

    Because we are of one fleser all

    And need one flannel (h a proper sense

    Of difference in ty) -- and still

    trick

    Of sions from the crease,

    Preserved ellectual. She had lived

    A sort of cage-bird life, born in a cage,

    Accounting t to leap from perco perch

    as act and joy enough for any bird.

    Dear  live

    In ts, and eat berries !

    I, alas,

    A wild bird scarcely fledged, was brougo her cage,

    And so meet me. Very kind.

    Bring ter, give out the fresh seed.

    Sood upon teps to welcome me,

    Calm, in black garb. I clung about her neck, --

    Young babes, wc every shred of wool

    to dra closer, catch and cling

    Less blindly. In my ears, my fathers word

    ly, as the sea in shells,

    `Love, love, my ch my grief,

    Miger once,

    I clung to , she seemed moved,

    Kissed me o cling,

    And dreo

    te in.

    trange spasm

    Of pain and passion, she wrung loose my hands

    Imperiously, and  arms length,