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THE MAID OF THE MERRY HEART.


At the sunrise hour who seeks the bower
  Of the Maid of the Merry Heart?
'Tis a soldier dight in armor bright,
  And he comes to say — "We part."

With a pleading look her hand he took,
  And his pale lips trembled long,
Ere the timid word was faintly heard —
  "One kiss — it will make me strong."

But with blushes dyed, the maid replied,
  "'Tis the victor's meed I trow !
When the laurels twine that brow of thine,
  Then the boon will I bestow."