LOVE IS BLIND.

I. From ancient Roma o’er the sea This ring, sweet maid, I bring to thee. Pray treasure it for friendship’s sake, And prize the symbol it doth make. A sweet suggestion would it lend, For like my love it has no end; These letters tell thee whence it came, And proud it is to bear the name— “Roma.” II. She clasped it ’tween her fingers fair; In conscious pride it nestled there. Upon its jeweled plates her eyes Cast star-like beams in sweet surprise; Then turned she with a modest smile, And pointing at the ring meanwhile, “Love, thou art blind,” the dear one said, “Else wouldst thou read as I have read— Amor!” Jean La Rue Burnett.