MIND WITHOUT SOUL.

Some strange story I have read

Of a man without a soul.

Mind he had, though soul had fled;

Magic gave him gifts instead,

And the form of youth he stole.

Grows a rose-azalea white,

In my garden, near the way.

I who see it with delight,

Dream its soul of odor might,

In the past, have fled away.

Blanche ( O, sweet, you are so fair,

So sweet, so fair, whate'er you do ),

Twine no azalea in your hair,

Lest I think in my despair,

Heart and soul have left you too.