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A DIALOGUE FROM PLATO
"Le temps le mieux employé est celui qu'on perd." -CLAUDE Tillier.
I'D "read" three hours. Both notes and text
Were fast a mist becoming;
In bounced a vagrant bee, perplexed,
Then out. The casement's leafage sways,
Miss Di., with hat and book,—a maze
"I am-and you?'
"You're reading Greek?"
And I'll read mine in answer."
I read. "My Plato (Plato, too,-
She smiled. "My book in turn avers
"But hear, the next's in stronger style: The Cynic School asserted
That two red lips which part and smile
She smiled once more-"My book, I find.
Would make the Cynics out a kind
Then I "Why not? 'Ephesian law,
She blushed-this time. "If Plato's page
No wiser precept teaches,
"Agreed," I said. "For Socrates
Thinks Learning can't remain at ease
She read no more. I leapt the sill:
LOVE IN WINTER
the berried holly-bush
The Blackbird whistled to the Thrush: "Which way did bright-eyed Bella go? Look, Speckle-breast, across the snow,— Are those her dainty tracks I see, That wind beside the shrubbery?"
The Throstle pecked the berries still.
"What would you?" twittered in the Wren ; "These are the reckless ways of men.
I watched them bill and coo as though