Sentinel Of The Valley

POETICAL.

ALL 'ABOUT FDT.'

Yes, she was lovely, she was fair,
As mild as Summer eve;
An angel form, a spirit bright,
A star that dropped from Heaven.
(Well she was.)

And O, those bright and lustrous orbs,
That beamed with holy fire;
Those auburn curls, that lonely brow,
None, none but could admire.
(Well they couldn't.)

And O, that light and graceful form,
So like a beauteous fairy--
(Perhaps we'd better leave out the 'f,'
And then it would be airy.)
(Well it would.)

I knelt before her, and I swore
I'd have one burning kiss,
She said--"Go wash your face
You can enjoy such bliss!"
(Well she did.)

I swore she was an angel, too,
Who'd fallen from the sky;
She cried--"O for a pair of wings
Once more to soar on high!"
(Indeed she did.)

'What, what!' I cried, 'and would you thus
A lover true desert?'
'Oh, heavens!' she cried, 'the clothes line's
broke,
There goes my brother's shirt!'
(Well she did--hoss.)

The above was cut from an exchange paper,
and handed to a friend, who returned it with
the following--"so he did."

I felt just then as if I'd dropt
From Chimborazo's summit,
I felt my budding passion cropt--
Mere beauty 'couldn't come it.'
(No sir-ee.)

And did I quickly snatch my hat
Without a thought of kissing?
And did I ever after that,
'Come up among the missing.'
(I didn't do nothin' else.)