Flout the bay and wear thy pansy-band,
Mistress Sophie.

II.

As these petals
Die not,
So the thought that settles
Softly in the purple petals
Fly not!
Half a memory, which a world of men
Can buy not,--
Half a prayer, that till we meet again
Thou sigh not!



LA BELLE TROMBONISTE.


How grave she sits and toots
In the glare!
From her dainty bits of boots
To her hair
Not the sign remotest shows
If she either cares or knows
How the beer-imbibing beaux
Sit and stare.

They're most prodigal with sighs,