Weary and petulant, she languidly
Watches the smoldering embers, 'till at last
The clock's shrill voice intrudes upon the muse,
Reminding her that time is flying fast;
And calling to the mystic land of dreams,
The sunbeams struggle through the window blinds,
And play for hours upon the chamber wall;
They strive to wake the dreamer from her sleep,
But all in vain; she does not heed their call,
And so the morn wears onward to the noon.
Watches the smoldering embers, 'till at last
The clock's shrill voice intrudes upon the muse,
Reminding her that time is flying fast;
And calling to the mystic land of dreams,
The sunbeams struggle through the window blinds,
And play for hours upon the chamber wall;
They strive to wake the dreamer from her sleep,
But all in vain; she does not heed their call,
And so the morn wears onward to the noon.
At last she wakens from a troubled dream,
The day far spent; a linnet in the oak
That shades her room trills forth a joyous lay;
The song no echo in her soul awoke,
For Nature held no varied charms for her;
Sauntering out along the garden walk
Sweet with the perfume of a thousand flowers,
She does not realize how fair they are;
Her mind is busy in the by-gone hours,
Rehearsing Fashion's fascinating toys.
The sunbeams kiss the violets at her feet,
The lilies tremble as she passes by,
The daisies from their beds of living green
Strain their bright eyes to view the clear blue sky,
The divers feed with fleecy Summer clouds.
The day far spent; a linnet in the oak
That shades her room trills forth a joyous lay;
The song no echo in her soul awoke,
For Nature held no varied charms for her;
Sauntering out along the garden walk
Sweet with the perfume of a thousand flowers,
She does not realize how fair they are;
Her mind is busy in the by-gone hours,
Rehearsing Fashion's fascinating toys.
The sunbeams kiss the violets at her feet,
The lilies tremble as she passes by,
The daisies from their beds of living green
Strain their bright eyes to view the clear blue sky,
The divers feed with fleecy Summer clouds.
She passes slowly on and comes at last
To a cool Summer-house o'errun with vines,
And sinks down on a sheltered rustic seat
Over her head the fragrant jasamine twines,
And sports its snowy blossoms in the breeze,
To a cool Summer-house o'errun with vines,
And sinks down on a sheltered rustic seat
Over her head the fragrant jasamine twines,
And sports its snowy blossoms in the breeze,
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