Ruse De Guerre

Thcrs fi bctTfrar frmda at tho the door, Therese, A phild with ii luniLTy tjt ; Jlift feet ure bare on the icy street, Yet tluy must not pomo moro nlgh Cold drives the sleet, Yet the bcear must not come nigh. Go teil him of palnoe nesir Thersn, Wtn:re his wrary limba mny tepoe ; Wbere the bmiqoot lmïls are richcr than iniue, With oouohM of pnrple and rose, Pn Üne, o fin?, Purple, and nmber. and rose. ■Vill lie nore of yoiir couhíwI tuke, Therese? Then hiirkon to vbftt t fay ; For DOW by ntnitupem foul or fnir, The beffirar mniit ro bis w;iy : No shíf'p- no r-rayer, 'Till the beggtir is on his way. Go emp'y t)io vliifpjvfroin tlio board, Therone, Anrt aoatter the i mnds about ; And the last red drop itom the cordial cup Drain out, yood Hiila, drain out; i"or how cnn hfi siip TíTien vianda and cortliul are out ? Quenóh 11 the beantiftil üunps, Thrrcso, Brenk every heart-string weet ; Ilenp icc on th fiw 't W it flood tlio floor, And dripí ni the beggtur'a feet ; TTnnor tho floor, Drips at bis müting feet. Is don6 M T Bald, Tlifi-esc ? Then opt-n the Iiouse dooi wide; O. ooider and darlser tluui :uiy street, He will never como insil' ; Voor feet ! por feet ! 1h'-y nuvor will couic inside,