DOVE-TINTED, urban-bred, secure,
Nowise self-centred, quite self-sure,
Priestess of Business, Office-nun,
And yet her girlhood scarcely done!
That balanced poise of confidence
Is yet young maiden Innocence,
Whose deep, gray eyes undreaming wait
The woman’s dearest boon from Fate.
My reverie, though it vision plain
Her lucency, can scarce retain
The radiant smile, with humor fraught,
But quick repressed, as if she thought
It wrong to let her seniors guess
That Mirth may visit business;
Yet flits it back in utter charm,
As if to smile were n’t really harm.
It is that smile which brings surprise
Jumping to my delighted eyes,
And makes my heart so yearn she were
Absorbed in Woman’s natural care.
Cupid, though growing gray I be,
Incline her heart, that I may free
Her life from office drudgery.
