The morning times., 1896-09-21
Margaret MaurO of This City
Writes Beautiful Verses.
DOES NOT GO TO SCHOOL
Educated by Her Mother ut Home.
surrounded by Flowers and Toys.
She Commenced to Write Verses
when Six Years Old-"Ye Romance
OF Ae OioenDe lyme

IUI VItCIOuU FCks,
A beauteOus blossom uI thy gentle sex
n Dit OF fragrance, budding ON Lne wind,
n stuiehouse Tor the hone "a .lcrIng Dee,
Now coyiy smiling Win uU4oeJtisn grace,
Now Will Il loyeiy LOOK upon tiny lace,
An upward Siance et grave, sweet pur.Cy;
A drop OF purple dew that gieanis. then
fades,
Sets upon earth's green breast another
gem,
Then. I.,r.ess. hangs upon its withered
stem,
Drops-aHI me grassy woodland dells and
Know =, no more--forget it did exist
but In my ueirU, v tlow r, thou art Tor ever
missed.
Perhaps tne most wonderful verses ever
written Dy a Child not yet IN her teens
are al tue poem entIIicd -'lc Romance Of
fe Oldenne Tyne which Margaret wrote
before she was twelve years old and mad
published in tnc september number Ot ST.
Nicholas The poem Is:
KNIGHTS OF OLD.
Vt was ye knigHte OF y Oluenne TYNE
Dyu love ye teauteous dayIne,
her Iorihe was Sym. ier lace was faire.
Esinonda was her nayuIe.
Butte wO unto ye lover true;
FOR nys sterIIe IaIGer sayue.
My sou he snaIie wcuue aI!c Iadye proud,
Aud noLLe ye countrie maybe.
Harde bye uutoe sc castle dwelt
All dayIfie oI nIgn uegTeei
| wOt sne Wi, uaye >lyIu nor IaIre,
Butte wcaiJnle aye was she.
She ndnde pa!tn ianue an go!de. for
soOth.
An palace ryche beesyde.
Then spdy NJ. sir puuuicDdye hys syre.
'-1hys uayIne shalle bee VI Dryde,'
one Gaye. when young Sir Gundiebays
Went out toe mont ye deere.
Hee spyuc hgs gentle ladye-IOve
Her swyHe Attending nearc-
Her cheeks Were lykc yr Chcrrycs redd,
Her haIre was solueu brUwHc,
she wore upOtnc nci EcDlAl ht,iue
An rose tuned uppe syde downe.
20. .hayst thee, love, cried Gundicbaye,
iuhe lowe butte carncste tone.
"Mye syre was Tyuryug taste Deehynde,
An We must soOEe bee gone:
Hys uOb!eInen ryue at iIys heel,
my RIVAL AT hys toe,
y. Edys,e tnec. nayste thee, whyle wee
Hee wiz nottc see US goe"
Then out aud blusht ye naydcn gaye.
And sdyde wynn cuurtesic lowe.
SIN tnaL yc ashe sir IuuuIeDdye,
l cannot well saye noe
syne ne has taken hyr Ou ny stecde,
AuthrO' IN the wOO,ies thcyflye.
Butte not Before ye cOurtli- ia yIne
Ihyr course had TYNE TO spye.
Movie hayste ye, haste ye. noble Sir!
ir some has iicdde | ween,
Wytu aDc poor country ddnsci, wheR
licc nIgute have haddc Il qGccne."
I. word Us spaykc, We bugies blOwDe.
To. bOOtc an hOr>e-away!
They muSI brIng, yIck, ere sette OF suBne
lc yOunge sir Gundiebaye.
When lo.-a wonder come toe passI
Yc swyDe left bye yc waye,
Wroth AT their mistress ieeve, thropged
Tae Syre of Guudiebaye
kegarctcss OF hys s,erne-voict "scat"'
An OF hys noble blOode,
They vcXt hy> horse, untyl hee threw
Hym Clecne off IN ye Inudde.
whcTat soc wrathy was We syre
lice Shuuld soc mernchc Iarc,
Hys prlDccly dignitie was stock,
WclDyc beyOnde rcpayrc,
Faynr wood nee have dy>iuds'd hys fcete,
Payne CiIdngd hys garments wette,
Sui dyd hcc StyCk-iOr aught | noe
Hcc mayee bee STUCK there yet!
Howe fares VI wyth ye knight an dayme
Aye Buldc that fIeddle that daye?
Together doe they safely byGe
in a havcnEe bye yc waye,
" CUES : are gone. yc vows nc Sa yde.
Ic priest uas Ia en- hys Zee,
Ye bryGe an groom, q Maye they live
Fun ionE.an hdpplllc.
Liz rs AAivNu FLOWERS.
1t VIII he noticed that, te>lGc> the alb
S"!ute perfection OF the rhyme, and the
simple music Of the verses the spelling
the >yntaotical form OF the lines are true
to the genius OF ancient English. And
yet this little poet, whose years PRECLUDE
the Idea OF any extensive excursions into
the literature of earlier tines is urahI.
Ia tell when or where she got the ideas
for the Poem.
Although not precocious in any other
way, Margaret has been writing verses
since she was six years old. She is the
da lighter OF Philip Aiauro, a patent law yer,
aud all the years OF her young nre, except
one, when she was abroad, have teen
passed In Washington. The child nevJc
went to school, except at infrequent inter
sals, as her mother preferred To educate
her according to her own ideas OF what
z little GIrI should learn. |
AT home, where she was surrounded by |
her flowers and her toys. Margaret's Ioeti-
cal naturecNps.nded. FIom the time when |
she was taught to hold pen, her natural |
nclina ton was toward the writing OF |
verses. which, crude at first. gradually |
took on rhyme and rhythm. The flowers,
he birds, the books which she lead ana |
the trifiing incidents OF her everyday life |
to her the ideas which she |
expressed In childish rhyme. Even her |
iaily hour Of piano practice. which, with |
lac instinct ol Il healthy CLlld, she thor |
iughly hated, furnished her the theme
or Il Poem, which she called The Monster |
Practising. The editor of st. Nicholas |
wrote of her in the August number of that
ma gazine:
Some of our young readers may have
skipped the poems on pages SJo and so.
rs perhaps too old for them, OF too lIk, |
poems for grown folk. But they Will turn
again 10 them with interest when they
-calIZe that these verses are the work |
II girl OF twelve-the thoughts that |
come 10 her from her favOrite flowers |
md birds, ard the ever day experiences
Of childhood. As such, the poems are
truly remarkable in depth OF feeling aud /
power OF expression, and they seem to us
an evident promise OF Il genuine poetic |
gift
Margaret Frances Mauro is not yet four
cen; and most OF these verses were written
before she had completed her twelfth
scar. Indeed, she has written prose aud
,erse since she was SIN years old
y shaGow on the grass suggested these
ines, which Margaret wrote several years
ago:
o dainty little Shadow.
COY, ueluSive Shadow!
o tickle phantom of the iigntSOnc air!
One moment swift carecring
A cross the sunuy meadow.
Then, flltting. disappearing
Who knows where.
Toward thee bend the grasses.
The tall. tall meadow grasses.
AS " To hold thy fitting figure still,
Now DER them ling ring. brooding,
Thou temptest their CdreSScs,
Then darteSt off. cludlIg-
Mocking still.
o, merry. merry Shadow,
Q. little elfin Shaiowi
Dance gail y withthy pia ymaueZcp yrrcw,
For OH the sparkling river.
The sunshine Oh the meadow,
They Will not last forever
Nor wilt thou.
When the gil wa> III her thirteenth year
er mother tnoS her abroad for a course |
a French. After the sorrow of parting !
hpr far ha hiaf xha