BELLA DONNA.

Two tear-drops of the bluest seas

Were prisoned in those laughing eyes,

And soft as wind in summer trees

The music of her low replies;

A sunbeam caught entangled there

Makes light in all her golden hair;

The wild rose where the wild bees sip

Is not so delicate as this,

And yet that little rose-curled lip

Is very poisonous to kiss,

And they were stars of wintry skies

That lit the lustre in her eyes.

And she will smile and bid you stay

And love a little at her will,

And love a little — and betray

But smile as ever sweetly still;

She knows that roses fade away,

To-morrows turn to yesterday.

She walks the smooth and easy ways

Apparelled in her queenly dress,

She hears no word that is not praise,

And ever of her loveliness;

And she will kill, that cannot hate,

Dispassionately passionate.