Classic Poem

L IKE a glad bride asleep
In robes of white,
Earth smiles; and yet I keep
Sad watch to-night, —
Saying, " Marguerite,
Ma petite Marguerite,
When in that fair, far country shall we meet,
Marguerite? "

I waken with the dawn
And say, " Her eyes
Look from wide windows on
The dear South-skies,
Where, calling, " Marguerite,
Ma petite Marguerite,"
She flung white oleanders at my feet,
Marguerite! "

O fair child of the sun,
Can I say, Come,
Where skies are chill and dun?
My heart grows dumb!
Oh, speak, Marguerite,
Ma petite Marguerite,
Can love make all climes beautiful and sweet,
Marguerite?