Page:Over the river, and other poems.djvu/95

Rh One has eyes of a darker hue, and hair like the raven's wing: She could not move with a queenlier grace were she child of a sceptred king. You should see her lip curl with scorn at some cruel or wicked thing. And here is another boisterous troop of bare footed, laughing boys, Quick to share in each other's griefs, and smile at each other's joys: Their teachers had need to be a second Job to bear with their fun and noise. They are past ; but my heart has followed them where my feet have been before: I look back through the weary years, and I am a child once more,