Waterbury Democrat., 1901-10-25
REMINISCENCE.

Lou are lovely in lace and OpalS,
 And the world quite adores you tonight But never can change my old fancy
 That you always looked sweetest in white, Iremember in-What was the year, DOW
 It's dream, or that soft, ilmy lace Has trick of obscuring the wrinkles
 That by right ought to show on your face. Sheen of laces and shimmering velvets, And the faintest pink dawn of a smile, The fair ghost of your girlhood's light laughter That was mine for the space of awhile. How impossible seems the long distance
 Tween the butler there, grave as hearse, And the time you daubed fans for living. And when was iuggler of verse. In the days when we laughed and put from us Crying ''Souri" Grapes we found were too
 dear,
 And but once in an age changed our menu Of tough biscuits and bonbons and beer. On those days of luxurious wooing,
 When knew that had but to speak For your heart to fling signals Of welcome To the pink and the pearl of your cheek. On, how clear thro' the years seems the ev'ning That we all took drive to Versailles, And the white gown you laundered yourself,
 dear.
 Made gleam in the long, leafy aisles. We had left old Paris quite behind us,
 For some fete of the morrow made gay, And the cafes, chantants and the peoples As they thronged thro- the Champs Elysees. Oh, how fragrantly cool smelled the boskage, As the carriages rolled thro' the Bois; hummed the last chanson republique. But you answered with ..Vive le roii" can see the long road yet before me.
 Down which courtiers once took their flight, And thought never grande dame among them Could eclipse sweet maiden in white. ] can see the long road yet before me, can hear the songs sung on the way; On, the world is good place to live in
 When the year and the heart are at May. Was there ever moon such as that one, That was out but to light us the way Ana how dreamily fair in it's shadows
 Were the things that looked prosy by day. I can see the old street with its pavement, Worn by feet of communist and king, Then the p2lace, wrath in the moonlight, Where royalties once had the1r fling We were gods as we sat down to dinner, Flushed with love and its glory divine, With roast for Olympian ambrosia. And for nectar, glass of white wine And the spindle-legged chairs which we sat in. That some rash move might cause to give
 way;
 And the latter r-de-malion we beckoned To come. stand on the sidewalk and play. Can you think what it wasg I've forgotten: But know that it thrilled me like wine, And felt the exultance of seraphs On the verge of new knowledge divine He was only a gamin. all tattered. Andye young as he was, steeped in sin, But he played L'Allegro of our lives, dear, On the strings of that old violin. Oh, then back thro' the rows of cool villas, On, then back through the glooms of the
 Bois;
 And the world was our kingdom. for love lit His bright torch for la relne du roi We have changed from those days Of scant llv-
 ing,
 Since the time 'caught on" with book, And I can't find place to sit downln. That you haven't re-christened ssnook.H You have patronized poets in passe, Artists in esse, but our sweet girl Has been schooled 10 no such destination For you've fated her hand to an earl And the last time We visited Paris, You explored our familiar old Rue With an air quite de hors, and asked questions h a manner too, too ingenue. ButI long for the days of our youth wife, When the heart was as light as the purse The time you daubed fans for living, And was juggler of verse
 MARY AGNES O'CoNNOR October 5, 1901,