By his strong arms encircled tenderly, Her head upon his breast, she wept for joy; And speaking through her tears: “Oh, leave me not, But let me share your lot whate’er it be-- A palace or a cot--I would leave all The world, my Cedric, dear, and go with thee.” But Cedric kindly told her of the place, Its roughness, the peons there; and frankly, But perhaps unwise, he spoke of dangers From the wild bandits. It was no place for One so sweet and gentle as his own dear Lola; it were better she obey her Father’s call. That day, a week, the ship that He expected her to take, would leave that Port. It would not be long; he would stop there On his way and see her father, speak to Him, as man to man should speak, all fair and honorable. The wisdom of his speech She saw and cheerful yielded to his will. With fervid kiss their pledges sealed, they sat In sweet converse till lengthening shadows called; Then spread their sail and shoreward set the prow Of their light craft. With rosy finger tips She swept the strings of her guitar and sang: “What fairy-like music steals over the sea, Entrancing the senses with calm melody? ’Tis the voice of the mermaid as she floats o’er the main, And mingles her notes with the gondolier’s strain.” Homer and his sister, waiting at the Mooring, by their merry laughter and love Glances, half concealed, each read their secret; And reading, saw the fading shadows of Their hope. Each concealed the pang; and laughing, Teased the truants for their tardiness. Then Timidly the lovers made confession. “And we will pray,” said Homer, “that to you Be given the fullness of all earthly Joy, and then the sweetest bliss of heaven.” Lola left them; and the three in silence Watched her waving from the deck; and saw the Good ship fading in the offing vanish, Where bending skies come down to meet the sea; Then sadly turned away--each heart, wounded By a shaft from Cupid’s bow; arrows from His quiver, unaimed, ofttimes fly amiss. Too high born and proud were Dora Lee And Homer to harbor in their minds dark Jealousies, or thoughts unkind; but Homer Was disconsolate; and Dora, cheering, Said: “You surely will forget your grief; and Going back to your first love will marry Her and love her evermore; for no true Heart can ever love but one.” So it was Her prophecy came true. Dora loved with Woman’s constancy; and womanlike found Comfort in the secret hope (while wishing Naught but good for Lola Vail), the idle hope That she one day would marry Cedric Vaughn. If in the spirit world departed ones Can see with joy a loved one plodding on, And faithful to the end, achieve at last The worthy object sought, then there was joy Above when Cedric led the class and gained The highest meed of praise for work well done.