Marcia

Madeline's hair is straight and yours         Is just as curly as tendril vines;         And she is fair, but a deeper color         Your cheeks of olive incarnadines.         A serious wisdom burns and glows         Steadily in your dark-eyed look.         Already a wit and a little stoic -         Perhaps you are going to write a book,         Or paint a picture, or sing or act         The part of Katherine or Juliet.         I believe you were born with the gift of knowing         When to remember and when to forget.         And when to stifle and kill a grief,         And clutch your heart when it beats in vain.         The heart that has most strength for feeling         Must have the strength to conquer the pain.         You understand? It seems that you do -         Though you cannot utter a word to me.         Marcia, Marcia, look at Madeline         Building a doll-house under the tree!