It is (in fact) the evening-that pure and pleasant time, When stars break into splendour, and poets into rhyme; B When in the glass of Memory the forms of loved ones shine And when, of course, Miss Goodchild's is prominent in mine. Miss Goodchild!-Julia Goodchild!-how graciously you smiled Upon my childish passion once, yourself a fairhaired child: When I was (no doubt) profiting by Dr. Crabb's instruction, And sent those streaky lollipops home for your fairy suction! "She wore" her natural " roses, the night when first we met" Her golden hair was gleaming 'neath the coercive net : "Her brow was like the snawdrift," her step was like Queen Mab's, |