Or I shrivel and die on my stalk."

  The whippoorwill utters her love In a passionate "Come, oh come," To the male in the depths of the grove, But the heart of a woman is dumb.  

In a passionate "Come, oh come,"

But the heart of a woman is dumb.

  The lioness seeks her mate, The she-tiger calls her own— Who made it a woman's fate To sit in the silence alone?  

The she-tiger calls her own—

To sit in the silence alone?

 

 VI. 

 Wooed, wedded and widowed ere twenty. The life Of Zoe Travers is told in that sentence. A wife For one year, loved and loving; so full of life's joy That death, growing jealous, resolved to destroy The Eden she dwelt in. Five desolate years She walked robed in weeds, and bathed ever in tears, Through the valley of memory. Locked in love's tomb Lay youth in its glory and hope in its bloom. At times she was filled with religious devotion, Again crushed to earth with rebellious emotion And unresigned sorrow. 

 Ah, wild was her grief! And the years seemed to bring her no balm of relief. When a heart from its sorrow time cannot estrange, God sends it another to alter and change The current of feeling. Zoe's mother, her one Tie to earth, became ill. When the doctors had done All the harm which they dared do with powder and pill, They ordered a trial of Dame Nature's skill. Dear Nature! what grief in her bosom must stir When she sees us turn everywhere save unto her For the health she holds always in keeping; and sees Us at last, when too late, creeping back to her knees, Begging that she at first could have given! 

Ah, wild was her grief!

 'Twas so Mother Nature's heart grieved o'er the mother of Zoe, Who came but to die on her bosom. She died Where the mocking bird poured out its passionate tide Of lush music; and all through the dark days of pain That succeeded, and over and through the refrain Of her sorrow, Zoe heard that wild song evermore. It seemed like a blow which pushed open a door In her heart. Something strange, sweet and terrible stirred In her nature, aroused by the song of that bird. It rang like a voice from the future; a call That came not from 

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