With his broad hat he fanned the lazy breeze. And turned his head, and lifted his large eyes, Of that strange hue we see in ocean dyes, And call it blue sometimes, and sometimes green, And save in poet-eyes, not elsewhere seen. Lest I should meet with my fair ladys scorning, For calling quite so early in the morning, Ive brought a passport that can never fail, He said, and, laughing, laid the morning mail Upon my lap. Im welcome? so I thought! Ill figure by the letters that I brought How glad you are to see me. Only one? And that one from a lady? Im undone! That, lightly skimmed, youll think me such a bore, And wonder why I did not bring you four. It sever thus :a woman can not get Somany letters that she will not fret Oer one that did not come. Ill prove you wrong, I answered gayly, here upon the spot! This little letter, precious if not long, Is just the one, of all you might have brought, To please me. You have heard me speak, Im sure, Of Helen Trevor :she writes here to say Shes coming out to see me ;and will stay Till A utumn, maybe. She is, like her note, Petite and dainty, tender, loving, pure.
(Typographical errors above are due to OCR software and don't occur in the book.)
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