The belle from Ber-she-be to Dan
Her little game. How lovers rash
Got mittens at the spelling school!
How many a mute, inglorious fool
Wrote rhymes and sighed and died--mustache!

This hired man had loved her long,
Had loved her best and first and last,
Her very garments as she passed
For him had symphony and song.
So when one day with sudden frown
She called him "Bill," he raised his head,
He caught her eye and, faltering, said,
"I love you; and my name is Brown."

She fairly waltzed with rage; she wept;
You would have thought the house on fire.
She told her sire, the portly squire,
Then smelt her smelling-salts, and slept.
Poor William did what could be done;
He swung a pistol on each hip,
He gathered up a great ox-whip,
And drove toward the setting sun.

He crossed the great back-bone of earth,
He saw the snowy mountains rolled
Like mighty billows; saw the gold
Of awful sunsets; felt the birth
Of sudden dawn that burst the night
Like resurrection; saw the face
Of God and named it boundless space
Ringed round with room and shoreless light.

Her lovers passed. Wolves hunt in packs,
They sought for bigger game; somehow
They seemed to see above her brow
The forky sign of turkey tracks.
The teter-board of life goes up,
The teter-board of life goes down,
The sweetest face must learn to frown;
The biggest dog has been a pup.

O maidens! pluck not at the air;
The sweetest flowers I have found
Grow rather close unto the ground,
And highest places are most bare.
Why, you had better win the grace
Of our poor cussed Af-ri-can,
Than win the eyes of every man
In love alone with his own face.

At last she nursed her true desire.
She sighed, she wept for William Brown,
She watched the splendid sun go down
Like some great sailing ship on fire,
Then rose and checked her trunk right on;
And in the cars she lunched and lunched,
And had her ticket punched and punched,
Until she came to Oregon.

She reached the limit of the lines,
She wore blue specs upon her nose,
Wore rather short and manly clothes,
And so set out to reach the mines.
Her pocket held a parasol
Her right hand held a Testament,
And thus equipped right on she went,
Went water-proof and water-fall.

She saw a miner gazing down,
Slow stirring something with a spoon;
"O, tell me true and tell me soon,
What has become of William Brown?"
He looked askance beneath her specs,
T