Walled in.

Walled in. 511.1 When Johnnie went off to Yale, to Yale, He was a parlor boarder: They sent him down to Eli Town To study law and order. They told him not to study much Because he was so frail- I wonder what his ma-mah will say When…

The Butterflies of May

The Butterflies of May. 166.3 Written for the News Letter by the Marquis de Louville. Who knows what may be in the butterflies' wings When they play in the warm air together, If they say in a butterfly's way, loving things From the Tea to…

TO WIN.

TO WIN. 431.3 More motion, Lena sald: More courage, Lean dread More cheerful, More goodnose Less bad Mors liking, Less hate: More labor. Leag walt.

Work Well Done

Work Well Done. 212.7 The work is well done that is willingly done. And the hands do not lag in their task, Then the love and good will of the la- boring one, Keep on, with no questions to ask. The work is well done that is cheerfully done,…

The Orphans

Put My Little SHoes Away.

Put My Little SHoes Away. 600.4 Mother, dear, come bathe my forehead, For I'm growing very weak; Only let one drop of water Fall upon my burning check. Chorus- Oh, I'm going away to leave you, mother, Oh, remember what I say; Do it, won't…

The Fairy Artist.

The Fairy Artist. 518.4 O, there is a little artist Who paints in the cold night hours Pictures for wee, wee children, Of wondrous trees and flowers; Pictures of snow-white mountains Touching the snow-white sky; Pictures of distant oceans Where…

Darling Chloe.

Darling Chloe. 298.6 In the old Carolina state, where the sweet magnolia blooms, And the pickaninny darky learns to hoe, There is one I long to see, who was always true to me, But I left her many, many years ago. 'Mid the cotton and the…

Song of the Grasshopper

Song of the Grasshopper. 202.6 I saw a brown old grasshopper, And he sat upon a stone, While ever and anon he chirped In a sad and mournful tone: And many an anxious, troubled look . He cast around the naked plain. Where now was but a…

The Old Arm Chair

The Old Arm Chair. 217.3 Not Readable Not Readable I sat and watch'd her many a day When her eyes grew dim, and her locka were grayi And I almost worship'd har when the smilef And turn'd from her utble to hiras her child. Years roll'd…

“Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep”.

"Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep". 436.13 "Now I lay me down to sleep: I pray the Lord my soul to keep,"L Was my childhood's early prayer, Taught by my mother's love and care. Many years since they have fled: Mother slumbers with the dead;…

I Could Not Call Her Mother.

I Could Not Call Her Mother. 490.5 The marriage rite was over, And tho I turned aside To keep the guests from seeing The tears I could not hide. I wreathed my face in smiles And led my little brother To greet my father's chosen, But…

Up Hill.

Up Hill. MISS ROSSETTI 560.7 (Christina Georgina Rossetti, daughter of Gabriel Rossetti un Italian patriot who fled to England in 1824 and became professor of Italian of the King's college in 1826, was born in London, Dec. 5, 1890. and…

Song of the Remorseful Twilight

Song of the Remorseful Twilight. 179.3 sumtimes wenn u are kummen hoam at nite frum playen hookey nuthen semes uz brite uz it did in the mornen wenn u hurd temtashuns voyce that kum to u ann sturd ure eavul pashuns up ann then uno how…

A Failure

A Failure. . W., Broaway 175.2 He failed? Perhaps but now he is at rest, Cold, tired hands upon a quiet breast. Think only of him what is best. He failed? But you have laid him 'neath the sod; The rest concerns himself and God. It is not…

Lorena.

Lorena. 377.4 The years creep slowly by, Lorena, the snow is on the ground again. The sun's low down the sky, Lorena, the frost gleams where the flowers have been: But the heart throbs on as warmly now as when the summer days were nigh: Oh,…

TO PASCALINE.

TO PASCALINE. EDITH LIVINGSTON SMITH. 537.1 LOVE, I would sing a song of my dreaming (Listen, be kind-) Harp-sung on sun-strings, told to the leaves Stirred by the wind: Spring veils the earth in its garment of youth Wondrous her face!…
timelesspoem

The Ripening’ Paris Hen.

The Ripening' Paris Hen. 329.4 I golly, it is funny How I hate t' work, say bow, When the prerie ben is rip'nin' In the stubble, an' somehow I git all mixed up a-dreamin' Icegins of lollin' dogs en "snipe," As old August, hot and yaller,…

AUTUMN LEAVES.

AUTUMN LEAVES. 569.1 "Come, little leaves," said the wind, one day, "Come over the meadows with me, and play. Put on your dresses of red and gold; Summer is gone, and the days grow cold." Soon as the leaves heard the wind's loud call, Down…

The Breaking Plow

The Breaking Plow. 223.12 I am the plow that turns the sod That has lain for a thousand years; Where the prairie's wind-tossed Bewars nod And the wolf her wild enb rears, I come, and in my wake, like rain, In scattered the golden seed;…