The Coquette.Two girls sat in a gay saloon, nor mingled with the crowd;The younger’s face was pale, and sad, the elder’s stern and proud.“O Gertrude,” said the younger girl, “thou art a sad coquette;Ah, many hearts have felt thy power, and thou art flirting yet.There’s one who fills a foreign grave, who loved thee all too well,Who breathed thy name forgivingly, as in the fray he fell;And yet his fate was better far than that of poor Martelle,Who lonely clanks his heavy chains—a madman—in his cell.”“O Gertrude,” in a softer tone, “give up thy selfish arts,Or hopeless love will be thy doom for blighting loving hearts.”Thus far had Maud unchecked reproved when Gertrude coldly said:“I care not for the living dupes, why blame me for the dead?Thy lover, sure, is naught to me, so quell thy jealous fears;When seeking game I ever strive to strike among my peers.”“Tis not my lover,” Maud replied, while blushes bathed her brow,“But brother Paul I fain would save—for him I’m pleading now.Of kin, he’s all I have on earth—so noble, brave and pure—Too good, alas, to sacrifice—defeat he’d ne’er endure.”But Gertrude rose and took the hand that claimed her for the dance,While Maud stole to the balcony—did Paul stand there by chance?It seemed not so—anon there came a lass surpassing fair;Some hurried words, a merry laugh—they seek the gaslight’s glare.Soon Paul claims Gertrude for the waltz; she yields and softly sighs,Then off they whirl while glances dart from scores of jealous eyes.* * * * *The full round moon now rides on high; the fragrant air is cool,The fountain’s spray, like flashing gems, darts in the limpid pool.A rustic seat girts round an oak, and Paul leads Gertrude there,She by his side, he takes her hand, so small, so soft and fair.In accents low he thus began: “O Gertrude, till to-nightTrue happiness I never knew, and may it ne’er take flight.Say, may I tell my tale, and hope to gain a smile from thee?Approving words to ease a heart that is no longer free?I’m lonely now, for sister Maud is soon to be a bride;Then wonder not because I seek a refuge at thy side.”She murmured half inaudibly: “Dear Paul, I long to hear;Thou’lt get a smile for ev’ry smile, a tear for ev’ry tear.”“Enough, kind Gertrude, listen then: for years I’ve roamed afar;I’ve sailed beneath the Southern Cross, I’ve lost the Northern Star;But now I once more breathe the air of home, I’ll never stray;I only need a loving wife—why tremble, Gertrude, say?But soon I’ll tell thee all I may; say, wilt thou share my joy?God willing, this night, two weeks hence, I marry Kate LeRoy.”Poor Gertrude heard no more that eve, nor saw she Paul again;The rose-tints faded from her cheeks; at last she loved—in vain.* * * * *Her wasted form the church-yard holds; Ah! never this forget:A woman’s love is woman’s life, e’en tho’ a gay coquette.—Geo.M. Vickers.
Two girls sat in a gay saloon, nor mingled with the crowd;The younger’s face was pale, and sad, the elder’s stern and proud.“O Gertrude,” said the younger girl, “thou art a sad coquette;Ah, many hearts have felt thy power, and thou art flirting yet.There’s one who fills a foreign grave, who loved thee all too well,Who breathed thy name forgivingly, as in the fray he fell;And yet his fate was better far than that of poor Martelle,Who lonely clanks his heavy chains—a madman—in his cell.”“O Gertrude,” in a softer tone, “give up thy selfish arts,Or hopeless love will be thy doom for blighting loving hearts.”Thus far had Maud unchecked reproved when Gertrude coldly said:“I care not for the living dupes, why blame me for the dead?Thy lover, sure, is naught to me, so quell thy jealous fears;When seeking game I ever strive to strike among my peers.”“Tis not my lover,” Maud replied, while blushes bathed her brow,“But brother Paul I fain would save—for him I’m pleading now.Of kin, he’s all I have on earth—so noble, brave and pure—Too good, alas, to sacrifice—defeat he’d ne’er endure.”But Gertrude rose and took the hand that claimed her for the dance,While Maud stole to the balcony—did Paul stand there by chance?It seemed not so—anon there came a lass surpassing fair;Some hurried words, a merry laugh—they seek the gaslight’s glare.Soon Paul claims Gertrude for the waltz; she yields and softly sighs,Then off they whirl while glances dart from scores of jealous eyes.* * * * *The full round moon now rides on high; the fragrant air is cool,The fountain’s spray, like flashing gems, darts in the limpid pool.A rustic seat girts round an oak, and Paul leads Gertrude there,She by his side, he takes her hand, so small, so soft and fair.In accents low he thus began: “O Gertrude, till to-nightTrue happiness I never knew, and may it ne’er take flight.Say, may I tell my tale, and hope to gain a smile from thee?Approving words to ease a heart that is no longer free?I’m lonely now, for sister Maud is soon to be a bride;Then wonder not because I seek a refuge at thy side.”She murmured half inaudibly: “Dear Paul, I long to hear;Thou’lt get a smile for ev’ry smile, a tear for ev’ry tear.”“Enough, kind Gertrude, listen then: for years I’ve roamed afar;I’ve sailed beneath the Southern Cross, I’ve lost the Northern Star;But now I once more breathe the air of home, I’ll never stray;I only need a loving wife—why tremble, Gertrude, say?But soon I’ll tell thee all I may; say, wilt thou share my joy?God willing, this night, two weeks hence, I marry Kate LeRoy.”Poor Gertrude heard no more that eve, nor saw she Paul again;The rose-tints faded from her cheeks; at last she loved—in vain.* * * * *Her wasted form the church-yard holds; Ah! never this forget:A woman’s love is woman’s life, e’en tho’ a gay coquette.—Geo.M. Vickers.
Two girls sat in a gay saloon, nor mingled with the crowd;The younger’s face was pale, and sad, the elder’s stern and proud.“O Gertrude,” said the younger girl, “thou art a sad coquette;Ah, many hearts have felt thy power, and thou art flirting yet.There’s one who fills a foreign grave, who loved thee all too well,Who breathed thy name forgivingly, as in the fray he fell;And yet his fate was better far than that of poor Martelle,Who lonely clanks his heavy chains—a madman—in his cell.”“O Gertrude,” in a softer tone, “give up thy selfish arts,Or hopeless love will be thy doom for blighting loving hearts.”Thus far had Maud unchecked reproved when Gertrude coldly said:“I care not for the living dupes, why blame me for the dead?Thy lover, sure, is naught to me, so quell thy jealous fears;When seeking game I ever strive to strike among my peers.”“Tis not my lover,” Maud replied, while blushes bathed her brow,“But brother Paul I fain would save—for him I’m pleading now.Of kin, he’s all I have on earth—so noble, brave and pure—Too good, alas, to sacrifice—defeat he’d ne’er endure.”But Gertrude rose and took the hand that claimed her for the dance,While Maud stole to the balcony—did Paul stand there by chance?It seemed not so—anon there came a lass surpassing fair;Some hurried words, a merry laugh—they seek the gaslight’s glare.Soon Paul claims Gertrude for the waltz; she yields and softly sighs,Then off they whirl while glances dart from scores of jealous eyes.* * * * *The full round moon now rides on high; the fragrant air is cool,The fountain’s spray, like flashing gems, darts in the limpid pool.A rustic seat girts round an oak, and Paul leads Gertrude there,She by his side, he takes her hand, so small, so soft and fair.In accents low he thus began: “O Gertrude, till to-nightTrue happiness I never knew, and may it ne’er take flight.Say, may I tell my tale, and hope to gain a smile from thee?Approving words to ease a heart that is no longer free?I’m lonely now, for sister Maud is soon to be a bride;Then wonder not because I seek a refuge at thy side.”She murmured half inaudibly: “Dear Paul, I long to hear;Thou’lt get a smile for ev’ry smile, a tear for ev’ry tear.”“Enough, kind Gertrude, listen then: for years I’ve roamed afar;I’ve sailed beneath the Southern Cross, I’ve lost the Northern Star;But now I once more breathe the air of home, I’ll never stray;I only need a loving wife—why tremble, Gertrude, say?But soon I’ll tell thee all I may; say, wilt thou share my joy?God willing, this night, two weeks hence, I marry Kate LeRoy.”Poor Gertrude heard no more that eve, nor saw she Paul again;The rose-tints faded from her cheeks; at last she loved—in vain.* * * * *Her wasted form the church-yard holds; Ah! never this forget:A woman’s love is woman’s life, e’en tho’ a gay coquette.—Geo.M. Vickers.
Two girls sat in a gay saloon, nor mingled with the crowd;
The younger’s face was pale, and sad, the elder’s stern and proud.
“O Gertrude,” said the younger girl, “thou art a sad coquette;Ah, many hearts have felt thy power, and thou art flirting yet.
“O Gertrude,” said the younger girl, “thou art a sad coquette;
Ah, many hearts have felt thy power, and thou art flirting yet.
There’s one who fills a foreign grave, who loved thee all too well,Who breathed thy name forgivingly, as in the fray he fell;
There’s one who fills a foreign grave, who loved thee all too well,
Who breathed thy name forgivingly, as in the fray he fell;
And yet his fate was better far than that of poor Martelle,Who lonely clanks his heavy chains—a madman—in his cell.”
And yet his fate was better far than that of poor Martelle,
Who lonely clanks his heavy chains—a madman—in his cell.”
“O Gertrude,” in a softer tone, “give up thy selfish arts,Or hopeless love will be thy doom for blighting loving hearts.”
“O Gertrude,” in a softer tone, “give up thy selfish arts,
Or hopeless love will be thy doom for blighting loving hearts.”
Thus far had Maud unchecked reproved when Gertrude coldly said:“I care not for the living dupes, why blame me for the dead?
Thus far had Maud unchecked reproved when Gertrude coldly said:
“I care not for the living dupes, why blame me for the dead?
Thy lover, sure, is naught to me, so quell thy jealous fears;When seeking game I ever strive to strike among my peers.”
Thy lover, sure, is naught to me, so quell thy jealous fears;
When seeking game I ever strive to strike among my peers.”
“Tis not my lover,” Maud replied, while blushes bathed her brow,“But brother Paul I fain would save—for him I’m pleading now.
“Tis not my lover,” Maud replied, while blushes bathed her brow,
“But brother Paul I fain would save—for him I’m pleading now.
Of kin, he’s all I have on earth—so noble, brave and pure—Too good, alas, to sacrifice—defeat he’d ne’er endure.”
Of kin, he’s all I have on earth—so noble, brave and pure—
Too good, alas, to sacrifice—defeat he’d ne’er endure.”
But Gertrude rose and took the hand that claimed her for the dance,While Maud stole to the balcony—did Paul stand there by chance?
But Gertrude rose and took the hand that claimed her for the dance,
While Maud stole to the balcony—did Paul stand there by chance?
It seemed not so—anon there came a lass surpassing fair;Some hurried words, a merry laugh—they seek the gaslight’s glare.
It seemed not so—anon there came a lass surpassing fair;
Some hurried words, a merry laugh—they seek the gaslight’s glare.
Soon Paul claims Gertrude for the waltz; she yields and softly sighs,Then off they whirl while glances dart from scores of jealous eyes.* * * * *The full round moon now rides on high; the fragrant air is cool,The fountain’s spray, like flashing gems, darts in the limpid pool.
Soon Paul claims Gertrude for the waltz; she yields and softly sighs,
Then off they whirl while glances dart from scores of jealous eyes.
* * * * *
The full round moon now rides on high; the fragrant air is cool,
The fountain’s spray, like flashing gems, darts in the limpid pool.
A rustic seat girts round an oak, and Paul leads Gertrude there,She by his side, he takes her hand, so small, so soft and fair.
A rustic seat girts round an oak, and Paul leads Gertrude there,
She by his side, he takes her hand, so small, so soft and fair.
In accents low he thus began: “O Gertrude, till to-nightTrue happiness I never knew, and may it ne’er take flight.
In accents low he thus began: “O Gertrude, till to-night
True happiness I never knew, and may it ne’er take flight.
Say, may I tell my tale, and hope to gain a smile from thee?Approving words to ease a heart that is no longer free?
Say, may I tell my tale, and hope to gain a smile from thee?
Approving words to ease a heart that is no longer free?
I’m lonely now, for sister Maud is soon to be a bride;Then wonder not because I seek a refuge at thy side.”
I’m lonely now, for sister Maud is soon to be a bride;
Then wonder not because I seek a refuge at thy side.”
She murmured half inaudibly: “Dear Paul, I long to hear;Thou’lt get a smile for ev’ry smile, a tear for ev’ry tear.”
She murmured half inaudibly: “Dear Paul, I long to hear;
Thou’lt get a smile for ev’ry smile, a tear for ev’ry tear.”
“Enough, kind Gertrude, listen then: for years I’ve roamed afar;I’ve sailed beneath the Southern Cross, I’ve lost the Northern Star;
“Enough, kind Gertrude, listen then: for years I’ve roamed afar;
I’ve sailed beneath the Southern Cross, I’ve lost the Northern Star;
But now I once more breathe the air of home, I’ll never stray;I only need a loving wife—why tremble, Gertrude, say?
But now I once more breathe the air of home, I’ll never stray;
I only need a loving wife—why tremble, Gertrude, say?
But soon I’ll tell thee all I may; say, wilt thou share my joy?God willing, this night, two weeks hence, I marry Kate LeRoy.”
But soon I’ll tell thee all I may; say, wilt thou share my joy?
God willing, this night, two weeks hence, I marry Kate LeRoy.”
Poor Gertrude heard no more that eve, nor saw she Paul again;The rose-tints faded from her cheeks; at last she loved—in vain.* * * * *Her wasted form the church-yard holds; Ah! never this forget:A woman’s love is woman’s life, e’en tho’ a gay coquette.—Geo.M. Vickers.
Poor Gertrude heard no more that eve, nor saw she Paul again;
The rose-tints faded from her cheeks; at last she loved—in vain.
* * * * *
Her wasted form the church-yard holds; Ah! never this forget:
A woman’s love is woman’s life, e’en tho’ a gay coquette.
—Geo.M. Vickers.