MINNIE MYRTLE MILLER
259
O Poet, sing of my hero;
He is weary and homeless and old,
And he sleeps by his dying camp-fire,
Dreaming of love and gold.
In his wild- woods a shrill note echoes,
And a dead leaf drops from the stem,
And a shadow stirs under the fir tree—
Go, sing thou in numbers of them.
He is weary and homeless and old,
And he sleeps by his dying camp-fire,
Dreaming of love and gold.
In his wild- woods a shrill note echoes,
And a dead leaf drops from the stem,
And a shadow stirs under the fir tree—
Go, sing thou in numbers of them.
PORTLAND.
Plea for the Inconstant Moon
Written for the New Northwest, May 19, 1871
M. M. Miller
Queen Moon, thy form was round
Only one month ago;
And with a halo crowned,
Half-draped in clouds of snow.
Only one month ago;
And with a halo crowned,
Half-draped in clouds of snow.
Tonight we gazed and wondered;
So sadly changed, and soon?
How was thy fair shape sundered,
O broken-hearted Moon?
So sadly changed, and soon?
How was thy fair shape sundered,
O broken-hearted Moon?
Who so cruel and cold
As to mar thy regal splendor,
And make thee crook'd and old—
Who was the bold offender?
As to mar thy regal splendor,
And make thee crook'd and old—
Who was the bold offender?
At last we read the secret,
While she wandered through the skies,
As we read a woman's answer
Out of her truthful eyes.
While she wandered through the skies,
As we read a woman's answer
Out of her truthful eyes.
Tenderly, faintly reflected,
Down from her silvery sheen,
The spoiler chief was detected;
The face of a man was seen!
Down from her silvery sheen,
The spoiler chief was detected;
The face of a man was seen!
