The Poetry Corner

A Modern Courtship.

By Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

Why turn from me thus with such petulant pride, When I ask thee, sweet Edith, to be my bride; When I offer the gift of heart fond and true, And with loyalty seek thy young love to woo? With patience I've waited from week unto week, And at length I must openly, candidly speak. But why dost thou watch me in doubting surprise, Why thus dost thou raise thy dark, deep, melting eyes? Can'st thou wonder I love thee, when for the last year We have whispered and flirted - told each hope and fear; When I've lavished on thee presents costly and gay, And kissed thy fair hands at least six times each day? What! Do I hear right? So those long sunny hours Spent wand'ring in woods or whispering in bowers, Our love-making ardent in prose and in rhyme, Was just only a method of passing the time! A harmless flirtation - the fashion just now, To be closed, by a smile, or a jest, or a bow! Ah, believe me, fair Edith, with me 'twas not so, And I would I had known this but six months ago; I would not have wasted on false, luring smiles, On graces coquettish and cold, studied wiles, True love that would give thee a life for thy life, And guarded and prized thee, a fond, worshipped wife. Oh I thou'rt pleased now to whisper my manners are good, And my smiles such as maiden's heart rarely withstood, My age just the thing - nor too young nor too old - My character faultless, naught lacking but gold, And to-day might I claim e'en thy beauty so rare If good Uncle John would but make me his heir. Many thanks, my best Edith! I now understand For what thou art willing, to barter thy hand: A palace-like mansion with front of brown stone, In some splendid quarter to fashion well known, Svres china, conservatory, furniture rare, Unlimited pin-money, phaeton and pair. It is well, gentle lady! The price is not high With a figure like thine, such a hand, such an eye, Most brilliant accomplishments, statuesque face, Manners, carriage distingu and queenlike in grace, - Nothing wanting whatever, save only a heart, But, instead, double portions of cunning and art. Ah! well for me, lady, I have learned in good time To save myself misery - you, sordid crime. I will garner the love that so lately was thine For one who can give me a love true as mine; But learn ere we part, Edith, peerless and fair, Uncle John has just died and has left me his heir!