New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1873-12-05
HFAGTSEAsF.


or all the bonny buds that blow
In bright or cloudy weather,
OF al the flowers that come and go
The whole twelve moons together,
This little purple pansy brings
thoughts OF the sweetest. saddest things
i had alittle lover once,
VINO used 10 give me posies:
HIS eyes were blue as hyaclnths,
HIS lips red as roses,
And everybody loved 10 praise
HIS pretty looks and WlnsOme ways.
The girls that went 70 school with me
Made little jealous speeches,
Because he brought me royalty
HIS biggest plums and peaches.
Aud always at the door would wait
To carry home my books and slate.
"Tbey couldn't see"-with pOut and fling
The mighty fascination
About that little snu0-nosed thing
To win such admiration;
A. 4 there weren't dozen girls
with nicer eyes and Longer curls "
And this l knew as well as they,
And never could see clearly
Why more than Marion or May
! should be loved so dearly.
So once B asked him. why was thisl
He only answered with kiss.
Until teased him-"Tell me why
1 want TO know the reason )"
When from the gardeu-bed close by
THE panSlcS were IN season.
He plucsed and gave flower TO me,
With sweet and simple gravity.
"The garden is In bloom" he said,
with lilies pale and slender,
With roses and vcrOenas red,
Aud fuchsias' purple splendor;
But over and above the rest.
This little beartsease suits me best
"Aln vour little hesrtsease, then 70
asked with bluShing pleasure
He answered yes and yes again
Ueartsease, and dearest treasure
That the round world and all the sea
Held nothing half 80 sweet as me!
INstened with proud delight
Too rare for words TO capture,
Nor ever dreamed what sudden Dhglt
Would come to chill my rapture.
Could fOresee the tender bloom
OF panses round little tomb
Life holds some stern experience,
As most of US discover,
And I've had other losses since
| lost my little lover;
But still this purple pansy brings
Thoughts OF the sadGest sweetest Things
Here is gr1m picture of desolation by Rose Terry
,ich shows her usual strength Of coloring.
DONE FOR.
week arc to-day. wheD red-haired Sally
Down 10 the sugar-camp came to see me,
saw her checked frock coming down the valley,
Far az anybody's eyes could see.
Now / iii before the campfire,
And l can't see the pine-knots blaze,
Nor SsIly's pretty face aSninIng,
Though hear the good words she says.
week ago tonight was tired aud lonely,
Sally was gone oack 70 MasOn's Fort,
Ana the BOYS by the sugar-ketties left me only
They were hunting cOOus for sport.
fN tBclc rDdhtu a pdlnicN dhbttJ
was asleep before the fire;
He creased NV two eyes with his Ratchet,
And scalpeG me 10 his hearts desire.
There they found me on the dry tussocks lying,
BLOODY aud cold as a live man could be;
A moot owl on the branches overhead was crying,
Crying murder 20 the red Pawnee.
They brought Inc TO the campfire,
They washed me in the sweet white spring;
But my eyes were full Of flashes,
Aud ali night my ears would sing.
thought was a hunter on the prairie.
But they saved me for an ola bind dogs
when the hunting grounds are cool and AIRY,
/ shall lie here like a helpless log
can't ride the little wiry pony,
That scrambles over hills nigh and low
can't set my traps for the cOny.
Or bring down the black buffalo.
I'm DO better than a rusty, bursted rife.
And don't zee signs OF any other trail;
Here by the campfire blaze lie and stifc.
And hear Jim MI the Kettles with his pail.
IT, no use grooming. i like sally.
But "A Digger squaw wouldn't have me
/ wish they hadn't found me in the valley
las twice dead not 10 see