The Argosy — page 343: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

324 ONE FIRST OF APRIL. ‘““QUEEN Rose is cold and stately,” I told her so but lately, When she and I picked violets in the lane, She held her head sedately, Nor spoke to me again, ‘‘Oueen Rose is proud and cruel.” This woke a wordy duel, ‘You need not seek for violets by this path, If all I say is fuel To feed your manly wrath!” ‘‘OQueen Rose is black as thunder; So let us walk asunder; You there, I here, the violets left with you, Look over leaves and under— I’m seeking something too!” ‘‘Queen Rose in silence curious,” Affects an interest spurious, For full five minutes in her own hedgeline; At last, her pique grown furious, She needs must cross to mine. ‘What is it you are seeking ? ”’ (I scan my hedge, not speaking) ‘‘It is too early yet for buds of May; See where the shoots are breaking, Because it’s warm to-day!” I beat my bush together, Investigate a feather, Turn back a leaf, then answer her: ** Who knows ? In such unusual weather Perhaps I’ll find a rose!” ‘A Rose! you foolish fellow ! Pink rose, or white, or yellow ? Can you expect they bloom for April’s sun ? Why, June but makes them mellow, And April’s scarce begun! ”’ ‘* Queen Rose, so grand and clever, What, have they told you never The trick that marks young April’s opening day? My April Rose, however, Blooms your side of the way!” Queen Rose, with all her splendour, Proves but a poor pretender ; Turns half aside, one moment gives no sign; Then blushes, smiles, grows tender— And puts her hand in mine! G. B. STUART. Gomichbooks.co