PINK, 
The Soul of Sweetness. 
To. 
They talk about her lovely eyes, 
Her sweet rose-mouth and glossy hair, 
The blush and smile that richly rise 
To light a beauty pure as rare. 
I own her raven lashes touch 
A cheek that mocks the morning’s light; 
I own her graceful form is such 
As poets see in visions bright. 
But there’s a dearer charm than these, 
That sheds o’er all a softer grace: 
She has a soul, our sweet Louise, 
More fair than even her lovely face. 
To . 
I know I should have lov’d you, 
If you wore not on your brow 
That angel look of purity 
I almost worship now— 
If you were not half so lovely 
In your thousand winning ways, 
In the tender sweet expression 
Of your earnest, thrilling gaze. 
Oft I bless you for the vision 
Of something bright and rare, 
That flits across my daily path, 
My daily path of care; 
And I know that many love you, 
Many sue on bended knee; 
But whate’er you are to others, 
You’re all the world to me. 
M. L. S. 
