DOROTHY Q

's mother: her age, I guess, mers, or something less; ut womanly air;

e forehead with uprolled hair;

r has never kissed;

and slender wrist;

es of stiff brocade; ed the little maid.

parrot green

and broods serene.

anvas full in view,

a rent the light shines through,

entury's fringe of dust,

ed-Coat's rapier-thrust! le the lady old,

ghter's daughter, told.

ter was none may tell, st was not over well;

DOROTHY Q

Hard and dry, it must be confessed,
Flat as a rose that has long been pressed;
Yet in her cheek the hues are bright,
Dainty colors of red and white,

And in her slender shape are seen

Hint and promise of stately mien.

Look not on her with eyes of scorn,
Dorothy Q. was a lady born!

Ay! since the galloping Normans came,
England's annals have known her name;
And still to the three-hilled rebel town
Dear is that ancient name's renown,
For many a civic wreath they won,
The youthful sire and the gray-haired son.

O Damsel Dorothy! Dorothy Q.!

Strange is the gift that I owe to you;
Such a gift as never a king

Save to a daughter or son might bring,

All my tenure of heart and hand,

All my title to house and land;

DOROTHY Q

sister and child and wife

sorrow and death and life!

ndred years ago

hut lips had answered No, the tremulous question came e maiden her Norman name, he folds that look so still welled with the bosom's thrill? I, or would it be

nother to nine tenths me?

reath of a maiden's Yes:

t gossamer stirs with less; cable that holds so fast

the battles of wave and blast, n echo of speech and song n the babbling air so long! tones in the voice that whisthen

ear to-day in a hundred men.

DOROTHY Q

O lady and lover, how faint and far
Your images hover, and here we are,
Solid and stirring in flesh and bone,
Edward's and Dorothy's

all their own,

A goodly record for Time to show
Of a syllable spoken so long ago! —
Shall I bless you, Dorothy, or forgive
For the tender whisper that bade me live?

It shall be a blessing, my little maid!

I will heal the stab of the Red-Coat's blade,
And freshen the gold of the tarnished frame,
And gild with a rhyme your household name;
So
you shall smile on us brave and bright
As first you greeted the morning's light,

And live untroubled by woes and fears
Through a second youth of a hundred years.
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES