Unwritten Rhymes

dozen times a day or more little fout comes to my door, nd iho' 1 bid, "como in," "stay out," . ltttle ïaec with smile or pout, With as bl-ie as mentían bells, (Vnd cheeks as pink as sea-loved shell9, .ná hair that strays where ere it lists, Ind hands with dimples kissed añil kissod, seo- and countlesscimninK baby charms, Lnd then my queen is in my aruis. 'hey fall so f ast I cannot Bpeak, 'he kisses on my eyes and clu'ek, ind tanglrd liair wearea in the brov.-n, tnd dimpled hands hide smile or í'rown Liid then with "bug" and kiss the last, Lnd tribute paid for service asked, stop to tie a wanton shoe, )r vexing knot in strintf undo, Jr braid a strand o!' BtntffffUng hair, 'o save niy lady f rom despair; 'ut bere and tuero a pin or two, 'o make a rent as roo 1 as iiuw; )rklss a hurt on hand or íaoo. )r brunh awtiy a troublo traou; )r flnd her Adam for bis Ark, Bent doubtlessly upon a latió ; )r tell '-Bo Peep" or "Nimble Diek." )r "Witch Who Rode a üramble Stick:" r mend a wheel in some oíd "shay," ?hat days ago had seen its day ; )r rock her "Simple Simón" lad, Who when ho's bad is vcry bad); )r do a hundred tilines aid one, L'hat never"stay" when tliey art dono,- And then slie's down and olí again, j And 1 take up my waiting; pen. Jut O my thouphtü, wlio-o have yon flownï Aud O my rhymes, wliere have you f?oncl' And where my plan, and wherc my plot; That I so diligent had wrought? And whore my hei-o, whorc my mald? And cunninjr fcheme bo doftly laid? They're gone- and tho' my ink-wet poa 8 waiting for those maids and men Do tender their account to nu, ! only see, and nee, and sce My little srirl wlthin the door. Aud hear her ioot fall on the iloor. And be it thus; my callow rhymo, And halting verse, hall' out oí' timo, The world wjll never want or miss, And ig-noranoe shall be its bliss, Andothermen with happier way Will say thethouffhts 1 tried to say; And other lipR with sonfrs will rins; What I could feel, bilt ooöld not sin?. But tho' the world stood still as night, To hear the verses 1 miglit write. An tho' my songs shouM always live, [ would not give- T would not giv Por all of this and kingdoms more, The ioy I feel when at tho door The little faeo 1 love I sim', VThose face Is paradise to m.