THE UGLY PRINCESS. I. My parents bow and lead them forth Ah well! the people might not care II. They little know how I could love, Their mites of rye and oil. III. They little know what dreams have been IV. Now earth to earth in convent walls, A THOUGHT FROM THE RHINE. I HEARD an Eagle crying all alone Above the vineyards through the summer night, Is trenched and walled by busy-handed men, SONNET. THE baby sings not on its mother's breast- Then lips which should but kiss and so be still, Oh stunted thoughts! Oh chill and fettered rhyme! So-like a child who whiles away the time With dance and carol till the eventide, Tells to his listening mate within the nest The wonder of his star-entranced heart Till all the wakened woodlands laugh and thrill—— Forth all my being bubbles into song, And rings aloft, not smooth, yet clear and strong. |