"The Early Called" by Marion H. Rand

Fair was she as a poet’s dream,

With her sunny curls & her eyes’ soft beam—

From her parted lips low words were stealing,

The innocent thoughts of her heart revealing.

“Oh! bright is the bonnie blue sky to-day,

And I must dress me & hie away;

The bells are ringing so joyously

It seems as though they were calling me.

And Willie, dear Willie, he will be there

With his happy face & his manly air;

The flowers he loves to-day I’ll wear,

And wreathe their buds in my golden hair.”

“Alice,” she turns with a stifled shriek,

And a mantling blush is upon her cheek,

While the piercing glance of her first surpriseIs lost in the laugh of her merry eyes.

“Willie; it was not kind to steal

Thus on my lonely hours, and hearT

houghts that, you know, I would concealFrom every eye & from every ear.”