here
A saucy smile suffuses those
Two ruby lips.

Why longer wait their sweets to share?
We're safe behind the portiere.
A moment, then, that no one knows--
Ah! now she's flown, _couleur de rose_,
With, one might hint (but who would dare?)
_Too_ ruby lips.

H.A. RICHMOND.
_The Tech._

~A Gift.~

My friend holds careless in his palm
A glittering stone.
He does not know a jewel rare
Is all his own.

But in its flashing lights I see
A diamond shine,
And though he holds it in his hand,
The gem is mine.

ELIZABETH REEVE CUTTER.
_Smith College Monthly_.

~Jacqueminot.~

Are you filled with wonder, Jacqueminot,
Do you think me mad that I kiss you so?
If a rose could only its thoughts express,
I'd find you mocking, I more than guess;
And yet if you vow me a fond old fool,
Just think if your own fine pulse was cool
When you lay in her tresses an hour ago,
Jacqueminot.

This pale, proud girl, you must understand,
Held all my fate in her small white hand,
And when I asked her to be my bride,
She wanted a day to think--decide;
And I asked, if her answer were _no_, she'd wear
A Marshal Niel to the ball in her hair,
But if 'twere _yes_, she would tell me so
By a Jacqueminot.

My heart found heaven, I had seen my sign,
And after the dance I knew her mine,
And I plucked you out of her warm, soft hair,
As her stately pride stood trembling there,
And I felt in the dark for her lips to kiss,
And I pressed them close to my own like _this_,
And I held her cheek to my own cheek--_so_,
Jacqueminot!

FREDERIC LAWRENCE KNOWLES.
_Wesleyan Literary Monthly._

~Don't You Wish You Knew!~

Glancing in the moonlight,
Gliding in the dark,
Down the river slowly,
Floats our dainty bark.
Sweetly sound two voices,
Shadows hide the view;
Heard the rushes something?
Don't you wish you knew!

Gently sigh the zephyrs,
Shine the stars above,
Eyes of brighter lustre
Speak of lasting love.
Quickly pass the hours,
Glides the bark canoe;
Heard the rushes something?
Don't you wish you knew!

A.H.B.
_Brunonian._

~Prom-Roses.~

Only a bunch of roses fair,
A duster of pink and white,
Roses that nod to the music low,
The flowers she wore that night.

She tenderly lifts each drooping head
That gracefully tosses there,
And the dainty flowers, nestling close,
Smile back at the maiden fair.

"How beautiful they are," she sa