TWO PORTRAITS. br br A PLEASANT picture, full of meanings deep, br Old age, calm sitting in the July sun, br On withered hands half-leaning--feeble hands, br That after their life-labors, light or hard, br Their girlish broideries, their marriage-ringed br Domestic duties, their sweet cradle cares, br Have dropped into the quiet-folded ease br Of fourscore years. How peacefully the eyes br Face us! Contented, unregretful eyes, br That carry in them the whole tale of life br With its one moral--'Thus all was--thus best.' br Eyes now so near unto their closing mild br They seem to pierce direct through all that maze, br As eyes immortal do. br br Here--Youth. She stands br Under the roses, with elastic foot br Poised to step forward; eager-eyed, yet grave br Beneath the mystery of the unknown To-come, br Though longing for its coming. Firm prepared br (So say the lifted head and close, sweet mouth) br For any future: though the dreamy hope br Throned on her girlish forehead, whispers fond, br 'Surely they err who say that life is hard; br Surely it shall not be with me as these.' br br God knows: He only. And so best, dear child, br Thou woman-statured, sixteen-year-old child, br Meet bravely the impenetrable Dark br Under thy roses. Bud and blossom thou br Fearless as they--if thou art planted safe, br Whether for gathering or for withering, safe br In the King's garden.