“ELSIE:”

Little elfin maid,

Old, though scarce two years,

With your big dark hazel eyes

Tenderer than tears,

And your rosebud mouth

Lisping jocund things,

Breaking brooding silence with

Wistful questionings!

Like a flower you grew

While life's bright sun shone.

Does the greedy spendthrift earth

Heed a flower is gone?

No; but Love's fond ken,

That gropes through Death's strange ways,

Almost seems to hear your Voice,

Seems to see your Face!