220
A SHEAF GLEANED
Sonnet.—THE FOOT-PRINT ON THE SAND.
A pretty foot, a virgin's foot, no doubt,
Disdainful, arched and furtive, printed clear!
To find this Cinderella, far and near
The prince would have with many a wary scout
Searched for a century. I followed out
The marks in hope the vision would appear,
Either in pensive loveliness austere,
Or wreathed with smiles, but vainly looked about.
Two miles beneath the heavens, the steps to trace
Was joyful work: at last a lake outspread—
No further marks! And not a human face
In sight! To right or left no pathway led!
Had Cinderella vanished into space?—
The lake profound slept silent as the dead.
