Not Made To Order

"She whom I love mustbequite smnll," I sald. "I like not your tall women- quito petite, With oyes that must perforcu bo raised to mino And small, white hands and little, dancing Let." But when ivo. mot, lovo, in that hour divino Youx honest eyea looked level into mine. "Shc must be. gentle- woman's chiefit chann ; Meek and BUbmissive to my lightest trown." But now my lic:;rt is lyina at your feet. Ah, how Imperioosly yon wniJed it down! And I, your willinc slavo from day to day, Live but to ove, to honor, to obuy. "She must be fair." Bnt in yovir rounded chock The red and brown do meet in sweetest blend. The twilight dusk is in your heavy bair, And long black lashes added beauty lend To your brown eyeR, where darkly written lie Lovc'b ansVers in love's shy obscurity.