Epigram

ONE sister have I in our house,

And one a hedge away,

There ’s only one recorded

But both belong to me.

One came the way that I came

And wore my past year’s gown,

The other as a bird her nest,

Builded our hearts among.

She did not sing as we did,

It was a different tune,

Herself to her a music

As Bumble-bee of June.

To-day is far from childhood

But up and down the hills

I held her hand the tighter,

Which shortened all the miles.

And still her hum the years among

Deceives the Butterfly,

Still in her eye the Violets lie

Mouldered this many May.

I spilt the dew but took the morn,

I chose this single star

From out the wide night’s numbers,

Sue—forevermore!

EMILY