My Laddie? No

Was it up or down, our boat shot out? Yon who aro oarsmen maybe know; There seemed co neod that I sbould heed Ausrht save to wntch my laddie row. The floatingr tresses oí the craea Beut low to kiss the ïiver's edge; A pipe of bird, whoso nest waa ssirred, Küse sieopily f rom out tbe sedice. The swïft turns of the curyinif oourse, IMie tranquil nook whorc Hlias slepti A frumau ñute, now sharp. now hoarsa. As low beueath the bank wo crept Tho wet tips of the Ulier ropes Drtpped silver in that magie air; The river's edsre, üko giant hedee, Grew dense with shadovrs black and bari A sudden flash of pleaminc lamps, Where sweet, shiill laufthter plorced th nihf; A elint and elow on us below, Thea- stiltness- and tho raro raoonlipht. A tawny head in orimsoo cup, Kyes, honest oyos, most darkly blue; Bare arms of snow that come and go Athwart h statue's rosy hue. O Moon! what stranffQ dementia breodi? What stira this quiet pulse of miiie'.11 What vïsiiii uweet and incompleto lllumes the world wiili tühtdlvine? No answer! But tbe mooo shittos on, Smilintr. mayiiaps, with soutle clee Whv sliouUl l'wisli with lier to kiss Tlie rower, wlio is nut for me? Some day the statuo will arouse; Tho marble arms with warmth v?ill rlow; Then in his boat another'U float. And sbt) wilt watoh my laddie row. "And wiiy," you ask, 'to othor lovca Do 1 resicn my irondolierV" "Hecaus (ah. mei tho cruelty! 1 am hiá maictcu aunt, my uear."