Harry
'I must look for an omen to point the way,

And I must look for it over my head.'

So I found a star that shone in the sky,

And mark'd how it glitter'd down on a tree,

And felt—but I swear that I know not why—

There grow the roses intended for me!

And as I approach the shadowy boughs

That are spreading out over earth and air,

A gay little miracle fate allows,

And the star appears to be sparkling there!

[pg 20]

Gladly I ran o'er the daisy-clad plain,

Led by the shimmering light of the star,

And under the tree I found—Harry Vane

Lying, and smoking a 'mild cigar!'

I started astonish'd—he stood upright,

And said, in a voice persuasively kind,

'Don't you know that I come here every night,

To see your shadow flit by on the blind?'

I look'd where he pointed, as if 'twas I


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