MAIDENHOOD. MAIDEN! with the meek, brown eyes, In whose orbs a shadow lies Like the dusk in evening skies! Thou whose locks outshine the sun, Standing, with reluctant feet, Gazing, with a timid glance, On the river's broad expanse! Deep and still, that gliding stream As the river of a dream. Then why pause with indecision, Seest thou shadows sailing by, Hearest thou voices on the shore, O, thou child of many prayers! Life hath quicksands,-Life hath snares! Care and age come unawares! Like the swell of some sweet tune, Morning rises into noon, May glides onward into June. Childhood is the bough, where slumbered Birds and blossoms many-numbered ;Age, that bough with snows encumbered. Gather, then, each flower that grows, |