30 SEPTEMBER 1893, Page 17

POETRY.

TO PEGGY ON THE LAWN. SHE is dressed, like the early Springs, In the daintiest pink and white ; From her mischievous hand she flings Pink-petaled lawn-daisies, the Spright The daisies are spells, and after She's cast them and knows that I'm bound, The ring of her delicate laughter Breaks into bright ripples of sound.

So now I'm her poor captive Knight, Unable to cope with her art ; Henceforth, with her baby-feet light, She will walk rough-shod o'er my heart.

E. M. R.