Page:Poems Kimball.djvu/266

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248
NOTHING TO DO.
A silent harp in the corner,
And melodies old and new
Scattered in pretty disorder—
Songs of the false and the true:
The harp stands ready—still the sweet little lady
Sits longing for something to do.

A sudden wind-sweep and flutter—
The door wide open blew;
A step in the hall, and swiftly,
Like a bird, to the threshold she flew:
Blushing, already the sweet little lady
Forgets she has nothing to do!