ids,--
A crown of light that glorifies
White brow and deep impassioned eyes.

Full, perfect, tempting were her lips--
The bee or humming-bird that sips
From scarlet blossoms in the South
Beguiled might be by such a mouth.

Her path ran by a rushing stream
Which, like a crooked silver seam,
Bound that green meadow to a wood,
Where soon with Graham Lee she stood.

Softly through arching forest-trees
Came stealing up a fresh salt breeze;
One fair cheek kissing, till it burned
Like to the other Lee-ward turned.

"Daisy," he said, "I sail to-day
For India, with Captain Gray;
Will you not be upon the strand
To say 'farewell'--to wave your hand?"

"Yes; I will go to see you sail:"
The tone was proud--her cheek turned pale;
"I've promised to be there and say
A parting word to Allen Gray."

The strong man's cheek grew white as death
As thus, with short, unsteady breath,
He said: "When last I went to sea,
You waved, nay, kissed your hand to me."

Her eyes flashed, smiling on him then--
Such eyes hold fiery, earnest men
In bondage, and to love beguile,
Whether they mock, or weep, or smile.

"Yes; I remember then to you
I kissed my hand; but here are two:
Can I not still kiss this one, pray,
To you, and this to Allen Gray?"

[Illustration:

"Oh, do not mock me, Daisy Dare,
With your small hands so soft and fair."]

Her voice was deep, the words were light,
The hands upheld were small and white,--
Such hands as strong men love to grasp
And crush in an impassioned clasp.

"Oh, do not mock me, Daisy Dare,
With your small hands so soft and fair;
They may beguile both lovers--true;
You cannot give your heart to two.

"One or the other let it be;
If Allen Gray, you're lost to me:
If me, all hearts you must resign,--
All homage and all love save mine.

"My guiding star across the brine,
Has been the hope that called you mine;
I'd rather see that load-star set,
Than wed a fair, false, vain coquette