Select Poetry.

Thames Star, Volume XVI, Issue 5039, 7 March 1885, Page 1

Select Poetry.

A LOVE GAME. She was a pretty and frank coquette, lie was a lad in his Freshman year, And they- stood on the lawn by the tennte nefc, ■ „..-■ With nobody l>y to see or hear; The san was bright and the sky was clear, As he foolishly bent his tall young head, And whispered the rules in her list'ning ear— For she did not know the game, she said. She was a pretty and frank coquette, . • And her ripe lips met in the sweetest pout, While over her eyes the arch brows met, As she studied the meaning of " in" and "out"; .-.-••■'" And half in shyness and half in doubt Questioned, with low voice highly bred, What this and what that were all about—' For she did not know tho game, she said. . h i • - She was a pretty and frank coquette, And her wrist was round as she-tried to play, • ' ■ - - ■ ■ ' But never a ball could she touoh—and yet She tossed with her-racket his 'heart away. 'Serve and return were one that day-; She missed till -her dainty cheeks grew red; He won the set, as a bold youth may, • But the little maid won the game —they said! e'bnvoi. Such are the chances of war, Ifear, ' ; At tennis, when people at odds'are set, ' And one is a lad in his Freshman year, And one is a pretty and frauk coquette.