YIELDING.

As they waltzed in the throng to and fro,

Still she followed his lead everywhere,

Keeping time to the music's sweet flow, -

Every motion as light as the air.

Half in jest, half in earnest, she said:

"Did you never consider it strange,

That in waltzing a woman is led,

And can yield her sweet will at each change ?"

"To be frank, that is strange," he replied ;

"But is not this true, now confess,

That ofttimes when your will is denied,

In the end you gain more and not less ?"

V.