Were just beginning to think they might bloom.

The pretty wee stars kept peeping about,

And even peep'd in through our prison bars,

As she gravely said, 'Who ever went out

To gather a rose by the light of stars?'

My heart beat fast at the beautiful phrase;

She had not intended it, I suppose,

But I felt I could love her all my days,

If under the stars I might pluck one rose!

Pleading my cause in so ardent a way,

Almost evoking an answering glow,

Crying, 'You once were as young and as gay'—

Then, she smil'd a little and let me go.

[pg 19]

'Twas pleasure enough to be out of doors;

I look'd at the stars and I felt content:

But it never rains, you know, but it pours,

And the path that I had to go—I went!

Playing with fancies, in fanciful play,

'If I want a rose,' I demurely said,

 Prev. P 15/110 next