A LOST SUMMER. 22$
Not mine, with its true-hearted roses,
Whose petals, shrunk sadly, yet sweet, Bear incense from kerchief and ribbon
As they flutter away to my feet; Not mine, with its thankful remembrance
Of all that I count and keep The grass on the hillside unbroken,
The mercies of waking and sleep.
But I heard Kitty Avenue s mother,
Through treacherous, close-folded blind, As she strapped the last trunk, high and mighty,
With Kitty s bright finery lined, Discourse in no soft, measured accents,
Till it seemed it was certainly so, That the summer was lost when the damsel
Had failed to secure a rich beau.
As she chided, the rows on the river
With Allenby Lyle all alone, And sundry piazza-spent evenings
That projects and plans had overthrown, Summing up, with a querulous quaver,
Fair Kitty s "best season" as " lost," With a dreary remembrance upon her
Of what the experiment cost.
1 There was young Lamoureux nearly crazy,
He s got a town-house and a yacht ! Old muddle-head Golden was raving About your blue eyes, and all that ;