Marguerite, by William H. Bushnell


Hair as silk of corn sun-kissed,
Rippling in a golden mist;
Skin as calla lily white,
Tinted by rose-blushes bright;
Lips as if from heaven above
Thou had stolen dew of love;
Cheeks as angel's fair and sweet,
Tiny hands and little feet,
Pretty, dainty Marguerite.   Eyes as when the cloudless skies
Dappled are with Summer's dyes,
And through film of stormless night
Flash soft rays of starry light;
Teeth as milk of pearl congealed,
When by tinkling laugh revealed,
And from dimples' coy retreat
Smiles peep out loved ones to greet,
Merry, artless Marguerite.   Fair of form as wax from mold,
Gay of heart and purely souled:
Sweet of tongue, whose lispé d words
Are jubilant as songs of birds;
Charming all with winsome ways,
Moon of night and sun of days
To the hearthstone. Fairy feet
As ever danced to music's beat,
Witching, darling Marguerite.   Not a soil of earth yet stains,
Know not eyes of sorrow's rains;
Never were thy heartstrings strung
By passion, or my misery wrung;
Free from envy, strife or fears,
Save washed away by baby tears;
Waves of time as they retreat,
Have left no hopes wrecked at thy feet,
Pure and sinless Marguerite. - William H. Bushnell

William H. Bushnell