The Free Lance. Oh do not harshly judge the heart, Though cold and vain it seems to be, Nor rudely seek the vail to part, That hides its deep, deep mystery. MY LOVE When summer breezes softly go In aimless travel to and fro, Aud summer heat invites repose, My love is like the pale white rose, But when the blasts of winter blow Against her face the chilling snow And Jack Frost bites her pretty nose, My love is like the red, red rose. Geographically Considered My love is bounded on the North By lovely chestnut hair, Which serves to lend an added charm Unto her face so fair. My love is bounded on the South By dainty little feet. On East and West by pretty arms And hands so white and sweet. But then, to tell the honest truth— (And surely there is no harm) Sometimes the East and West of her Are bounded by my arm. ANOTHER LOST CHORD der a window a freshman sung; " Oh Love, I will love you ever; you'll open your lattice and list to my song, 1 sing to you darling the whole evening long. And part from you, dear, I will never," e lattice opened as he had wished; 1, where is the freshman, is he dished ? to the darkness the freshman sprang nd swiftly the premises fled, r the strings of his instrument broke with twang hen the water bowl fell on his head. [ FEBRUARY,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers