140 
THE CROCUS. 
ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE SENTIMENT. 
That heart, methinks, 
Were of strange mould, which kept no cherish’d print 
Of earlier, happier times, when life was fresh, 
And love and innocence made holy day. 
Hilehouse. 
I’ve pleasant thoughts, that memory brings, 
In moments free from care. 
Of a fairy-like and laughing girl. 
With roses in her hair; 
Her smile was like the starlight 
Of summer’s softest skies. 
And worlds of joyousness there shone 
From out her witching eyes. 
Her looks were looks of melody; 
Her voice was like the swell 
Of sudden music, notes of mirth, 
That of wild gladness tell. 
She came, like spring, with pleasant sounds 
Of sweetness and of mirth, 
And her thoughts were those wild flowery ones 
That linger not on earth. 
Smith. 
