GOSSIP WITH A SPRING BOUdUET. 51 



Thou fair and frail ! So shalt thou prove the 



truth, 



That he who doth associate with the wise, 

 Shall in their wisdom share. 



Narcissus pale ! 



Had you a mother, child, who kept you close 

 Over your needle or your music books ? 

 And never bade you sweep a room, or make 

 A pudding in the kitchen ? I m afraid 

 She shut you from the air, and fervid sun, 

 To keep you delicate, or let you draw 

 Your corset-lace too tight. I would you were 

 As hardy as your cousin Daffodil, 

 Who to the sharp wind turns her buxom cheek 

 Unshrinking, like a damsel taught to spin, 

 Or milk the cows, and knead the bread, and 



lead 



A useful life, her nerves by labor strung 

 To bear its duties and its burdens too. 



Lilac of Persia ! tell us some fine tale 

 Of Eastern lands. We re fond of travellers. 

 Have you no legend of some Sultan proud ? 

 Or old fire-worshipper ? Not e^en one note 

 Made on your voyage ? Well, tis wondrous 



strange, 

 That you should let so rare a chance slip by, 



