* THE GOOD GIRL *

When you were born, a shooting star did sunder

The nightly void, and flashed to earth and brought

Endowment of rare magic and sweet wonder

And gifts beyond your mother’ s highest thought.

Oh, blessed be your soul of cheerfulness,

Your mind content and steadfast set, to hold

Such level journeying through storm and stress

Of life’ s rough weather and hope’ s heat and cold.

You come, a restful breath of evening wind

Upon the parched day, and cannot see

Your winning humour hearten many a mind

Where you bestow yourself unconsciously.

Never the violet her own fragrance knew:

Even such a flowery innocent are you.