HAT SWEET GIRL GRADUATE."]

~That Sweet Girl Graduate.~

So stately and so dignified
She looks in cap and gown,
I hardly dare to speak to her,
This grad. of great renown.

I scarcely can believe my eyes!
It surely can't be she
Who always seemed so very shy,
So very coy to me!

But suddenly the spell departs,
And I give thanks to Fate;
For anxiously she asks me if
Her mortar-board's on straight.

_Harvard Lampoon._

~Faint Heart.~

My lady fair
Her golden hair
Lets fall a-down her shoulder.
I'd steal a tress,--
She's no redress,--
Were I a little bolder.

From her sweet lip
A bee might sip,
Sweeter than rose-leaf's savor.
A kiss I'd take,--
No cry she'd make,--
Were I a little braver.

Her neat, trim waist
Just suits my taste;
Close in my arms I'd fold her,
And clasp her tight,--
She'd feel no fright,--
Were I a little bolder.

She's waiting now
'Till I find how
To ask of her a favor.
She'll be my wife,--
I'd stake my life,--
When I'm a little braver.

HARLAN COLBY PEARSON.
_Dartmouth Literary Monthly_.

~A Spring Lament.~

The spring is come; warm breezes blow;
It doesn't make me happy, tho';--
For seasons' changes only bring
To me the pain of ordering
Another suit. Style changes so!

This hat I'll hardly dare to show
Near "Easter bonnets;" it's too low;
I fear I must be purchasing;
The spring is come.

I'm glad to have the winter go;
I don't like ice, I don't like snow.
Green fields, bright flowers, and birds to sing,
Of course I like that sort of thing;
But still--it makes me blue to know
The spring is come.

LOUIS JONES MAGEE.
_Wesleyan Argus_.

~A Street-Car Romance.~

I write to offer you my heart,
O maiden, whom I do not know.
Pray do not think me premature
In making known my feelings so,
For I have loved you steadfastly,
O damsel of the unknown name,
And all last night and half to-day
My passion has been in a flame.

'Twas not your face, though that is fair,
Nor yet your voice bewitched me so:
(I heard you ask the motor-man
How long before the car would go.)
I saw you on the car that went
From Harvard Square on Tuesday noon;
I don't believe that you saw me,
For you were reading the _Lampoon_.

And this is why I write to you:
To say that I am wholly thine,
I love you, for that first-page joke,--
The one you laughed at,--_that was mine._

W. AMES.
_Harvard Lampoon_.

~Applied Mathematics.~

"My daughter," and his voice was s