The Exchange Of Sympathy For

I, Who Had Had My Heart Full For Hours, Took Advantage Of An Early Moment Of Solitude, To Cry In It Very Bitterly. Suddenly A Little Hairy Head Thrust Itself From Behind My Pillow Into My Face, Rubbing Its Ears And Nose Against Me In A Responsive Agitation, And Drying The Tears As They Came.

Nor Myrtle--which Means Chiefly Love: And Love Is Something Awful Which One Dare Not Touch So Early O' Mornings.

Oh, The Little Birds Sang East, And The Little Birds Sang West.

The Little Cares That Fretted Me, I Lost Them Yesterday Among The Fields Above The Sea, Among The Winds At Play.

The Soul's Rialto Hath Its Merchandise, I Barter For Curl Upon That Mart.