A Christmas Memory

Pa he bringed me here to stay'Til my Ma she's well.--An' nenHe's go' hitch up, Chris'mus-day,An' come take me back againWher' my Ma's at! Won't I beTickled when he comes fer me!My Ma an' my A'nty they'Uz each-uvver's sisters. Pa--A'nty telled me, th' other day,--He comed here an' married Ma....A'nty said nen, 'Go run play,I must work now!' ... An' I saw,When she turn' her face away,She 'uz cryin'

A Bride

'O I am weary!' she sighed, as her billowyHair she unloosed in a torrent of goldThat rippled and fell o'er a figure as willowy,Graceful and fair as a goddess of old:Over her jewels she flung herself drearily,Crumpled the laces that snowed on her breast,Crushed with her fingers the lily that wearilyClung in her hair like a dove in its nest--.And naught but her shadowy form in the mirrorTo kneel in

A Poet's Wooing

I woo'd a woman once,But she was sharper than an eastern wind.Tennyson"What may I do to make you glad,To make you glad and free,Till your light smiles glanceAnd your bright eyes danceLike sunbeams on the sea?Read some rhyme that is blithe and gayOf a bright May morn and a marriage day?"And she sighed in a listless way she had,--"Do not read--it will make me sad!""What shall I do to make you glad-

The Old Times Were the Best

Friends, my heart is half awearyOf its happiness to-night:Though your songs are gay and cheery,And your spirits feather-light,There's a ghostly music hauntingStill the heart of every guestAnd a voiceless chorus chantingThat the Old Times were the best.CHORUSAll about is bright and pleasantWith the sound of song and jest,Yet a feeling's ever presentThat the Old Times were the best.

The Song of Yesterday

I

But yesterday
I looked away
O'er happy lands, where sunshine lay
In golden blots,
Inlaid with spots
Of shade and wild forget-me-nots.

My head was fair
With flaxen hair,
And fragrant breezes, faint and rare,
And, warm with drouth
From out the south,
Blew all my curls across my mouth.

And, cool and sweet,
My naked feet
Found dewy pathways through the wheat;
And out again
Where

A Child-World

_The Child-World--long and long since lost to view--A Fairy Paradise!--How always fair it was and fresh and new--How every affluent hour heaped heart and eyesWith treasures of surprise!Enchantments tangible: The under-brinkOf dawns that launched the sightUp seas of gold: The dewdrop on the pink,With all the green earth in it and blue heightOf heavens infinite:The liquid, dripping songs of

Liberty

New Castle, July 4, 1878Or a hundred years the pulse of timeHas throbbed for Liberty;For a hundred years the grand old climeColumbia has been free;For a hundred years our country's love,The Stars and Stripes, has waved above.Away far out on the gulf of years--Misty and faint and whiteThrough the fogs of wrong--a sail appears,And the Mayflower heaves in sight,And drifts again, with its little