. Blood for blood; a legend of the "big elm tree,". ed he That kisses grow cold,And love is a laggard When wrinkled and old. 62 DESTINY I saw a child with flaxen hair,Two summers old, they said; Its eyes were blue as desert skies—Its lips were touched with red. I knew a man, infirm with age,Whose faltering step was slow; His eye had lost its power to flash—His beard was like the snow. When violets were blooming wildAnd birds were all a-mating, One, Madge, the little waif, was called—The old man still is waiting. I saw two ships with stately masts, As like as ships could be—The same breeze fill
. Blood for blood; a legend of the "big elm tree,". ed he That kisses grow cold,And love is a laggard When wrinkled and old. 62 DESTINY I saw a child with flaxen hair,Two summers old, they said; Its eyes were blue as desert skies—Its lips were touched with red. I knew a man, infirm with age,Whose faltering step was slow; His eye had lost its power to flash—His beard was like the snow. When violets were blooming wildAnd birds were all a-mating, One, Madge, the little waif, was called—The old man still is waiting. I saw two ships with stately masts, As like as ships could be—The same breeze filled their gallant sails, And bore them out to sea. One safely reached the destined port—O day of song and gladness!— The others fate remains unknown—O silent years of sadness! 63 Two babes were rocked to sleep at night,With equal love and yearning— As boys they led the village sports,And vied at school in learning. They grew to manhood full of hope And highest aspiration—In after life one taught a school, The other ruled a 64 CUPID AND PSYCHE Cupid and Psyche togetherStood on a Grecian isle— One of the classic seven That make the old sea-god smile. Afar on the ^Egean were tracesOf the coming king of day, And the flush of his advent reddenedThe brow of the new-born May. Cupid had neither mantleNor girdle nor sandal on— Night was the gown which PsycheHad worn—but night was gone. Cupid drew Psyche gentlyAnd tenderly to his breast; The ripe haw is not redder Than the lips that Cupid pressed. Have Cupid and Psyche parted, Uttering, each, farewell?Has the feast of roses ended ? Let an old legend tell. 65
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookidbloodforbloo, bookyear1906
