SIR ROMEO'S ROSE-LEAF.

"What is the fate of my lone leaf,

That, venturous, climbs the castle wall?

I'll tell you when, vacation brief

Being o'er, we meet again next fall."

LAST June, when roses were in bloom,

The earth decked out in gay attire,

The air deep laden with perfume,

A fair one did my heart inspire.

Up to her lattice high I sent

A rose-leaf, with a tale of love.

Alas! I fear my sentiment

Meets no response from her above.

Perhaps her lynx-eyed mother hath

With jealous care my love's heart wrung,

And seeks to keep her in the path

That damsels trod "when I was young."

It may be that "Old Capulet"

Securely guards his daughter fair,

And says, "Wait till you 're older yet

Before you choose my son and heir."

Vacation over, there 's no time

To watch my lady's lattice high;

No hours to waste in idle rhyme,

To dream of love, to heave a sigh.

But when is past another year,

And I have taken my degree,

Again I'll sue without a fear,

With my grand title of "A. B."

And now my lady's name I speak,

For doubtless that you wish to learn;

'T is Juliet on whose velvet cheek

Sir Romeo's rosy leaflets burn.

A. L. H.