PS a 91 '■' ' ■ - ■ 4L&- * • . «.< c < r < * < i arc c < ( (< r r* •>• < r~ ,3^ .S J£- c r car c-- c* «c > :- < rr " af.< ^c c r ;'"<<-^ i i re v •<... - cc: c c <-< • - c^C - • c«ac r c msc_<- < ■r' ^- C" c < c < .C C 3i< '■ «4< d_ ■ ■- re -~ c r? o ' * SG;. .«-<" cy Mi fed' «K ^T3. r:,- *€C7 c c ' iitorcir? E> W # Ha Mo Let Dante flit with demon wing, And Milton rebel angels sing, My theme more lofty is by far, Rebels who always angels are ! Since man had tried so oft, in vain, The long-lost Eden to regain, The sex thought best to show the men How they could conquer it again. Ah ! See what heavenly dreams now rise- A woman's dream of Paradise ! Here nature wears her bridal dress, A maiden clothed in loveliness. 4 Swards of green and trees above, Flowers, birds, and songs of love. An endless choice in beauty's maze Enraptures the beholder's gaze. Quiet arbors yield repose Where the passion-flower grows, Vines around their tendrils fling, Close and lovingly they cling ; Honeysuckles of delight, Creeping o'er their souls at night, Sweetly kiss their breath away Till ecstasy is born with day.