■r\j£ 
 
 
 r 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
 Chap. Copyright No,...l-_. 
 
 Shelf.ZS..3.^31 
 
 ^7^ 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
i>_i_ 
 
Verses 
 
 BY 
 
 cMay Hayden Taylor Wilson, 
 
 October, 1871— January, 1895. 
 
 ' For lovelier than ever, she hath soared 
 With angel hosts, before my inward eye. 
 Toward the feet of our ever-living Lord." 
 
 —Tetrdrch. 
 
TWO copifc:>j 
 
 
 U)01 
 
 D4 
 
 COPYRIGHT 
 
 1899 
 
 EDWARD TAYLOR WILSON. 
 
 Sfeccwi) Goj^y, 
 
 
 t _, I 
 
In choosing from many bits of rhyme, a few for 
 publication, it has been difficult to decide what might 
 be used. Verses for the home festivals were filled 
 with loving words and quaint jests, but some would 
 not be clearly understood, while others brought too 
 many tears with the smiles. 
 
 The quick wit. Ilw fun. the affection of a brief 
 lifetime can be followed in these lines. Often they 
 were thrown together carelessly, and left unchanged 
 as the occasion passed. But now. to those who 
 loved her. they form a sweet record of the days 
 that are no more. 
 
 Before her marriage Maysie arranged in a 
 little book all the verses addressed to her sister, 
 and wrote the dedication which so fitly opens this 
 collection. 
 
 By those who loved her, and to whom her 
 sweet, unselfish spirit has been an inspiration, this 
 little volume is given to her friends. 
 
 
DEDICATIOM. 
 
 To mail)' friends, in many moods, 
 
 My rhyming lines are written, 
 Sometimes in earnest, sometimes b)- 
 
 Poetic fervor smitten. 
 And never )'et, in prose or verse, 
 
 Have I the Muse arrested. 
 But that the effort held some line 
 
 Or thought by you suggested. 
 So, sweetheart, take the verses, with 
 
 This loving dedication — 
 
 TO 
 
 Brown-eved Euith 
 
 Who has been 
 
 mv dearest inspiration. 
 
 October. iSg^. 
 
^0 yn\in. 
 
 I These lines were traceii in c hilrlisli \MUin« on the pink lissue leaves 
 ol a shavitiK-paper case. The io\er. iif silver earclboanl crossed with blue 
 silk, was one nf the first efforts of the little hands thai afterwards Rrew so 
 skillful ill all kinds of dainty \v<iik.) 
 
 When to smooth your chin you tr\-. 
 Pray remember it was I 
 
 Who cut this paper, or did try, my father. 
 And made this ca.se of silver fine 
 All for )-ou, father mine ; 
 And trimmed it all with lovely blue 
 To match the sky, and birds' eg^s too. 
 
 In the sweetest summer weather. 
 
 Pink as the sunset, blue as the sk\-, 
 Silver as dew-drops, now you and I — 
 Which is the happiest, papa or May, 
 ( )n this gladdest Christmas Day? 
 
 ( Cliristvias. iSjg. ) 
 
lltiJtoijs at|ti ^ags. 
 
 Grandmamma dear, I very much fear, 
 
 That while you are traveling so far and so near, 
 
 Some day you'll find out, I haven't a doubt, 
 
 That you've not a button, and what will you do ? 
 
 Fill up with all sizes this button-bag blue ! 
 
 Now, here let me drop a bit of advice. 
 
 I know very well that it's not very nice 
 
 To advise older people ; but I think you will find 
 
 That this is advice of the very best kind : 
 
 When on a tour through the country you go. 
 
 Take button-bag with you, and needles, to sew. 
 
 {yiily, 1882.) 
 
'6n JihWl—J Taleiiliiic. 
 
 I know a little lady, 
 
 Her name I will not tell ; 
 Rut this I'm not ashamed to say : 
 
 I love her very well. 
 
 Her smile is bright as sunshine, 
 Her teeth are just like pearls, 
 
 And to me she is the sweetest 
 Of all the little girls. 
 
 She has a charming manner. 
 
 And a voice that's quite entrancing, 
 And a really most delightful way 
 
 Of skating and of dancing. 
 
 As she's so very charming, 
 
 I hope it won't offend her 
 If I should take the libert)- 
 
 This Valentine to send her. 
 
 (Ffd>iian>. iSSj.) 
 
^ ©ommenqeniFnt ©be. 
 
 Noble Wheaton, we, thy daughters, 
 Kneeling low before thy shrine, 
 
 Drink thy streams of living waters ; 
 All our gratitude is thine. 
 
 Here to-day we give thee honor, — 
 (Put that in the upper tray,) 
 
 And, my love, that's my Madonna 
 That you're banging round that way ! 
 
Many a heart its tribute brini,Mng,— 
 (Turn that dress skirt inside out.) 
 
 Many a voice thy praises singing,— 
 (Yes, 'Twill break without a doubt.) 
 
 White-robed girls,— (my goodness gracious. 
 
 There my water pitcher goes ! 
 Fate is pos'tively audacious. 
 
 Thus to add to all my woes.) 
 
I'Vom beneath thy kind protection 
 Goes to-day a senior class, — 
 
 (Love, if you have no objection. 
 Just don't pack my looking glass.) 
 
 Who can speak in accents fitting 
 Of thy care and tenderness? — 
 
 (Do you know, my dear, you're sitting 
 On my new Commencement dress ?) 
 
Wheaton, thine shall be the glory 
 When — (Oh girls, how can I write 
 
 Anything in prose or story, 
 
 If you two stand there and fight ! 
 
 It's clear if 'mid the tumult racking 
 I mean to leave this dear abode, 
 
 I'd better do my own trunk-packing. 
 And leave yon girls to write the Ode. ) 
 
 (Published 7nm\ iSSg.) 
 
Terscs for ©raiitiiiiaiiiiiia's (iaiEiitiar, 1802. 
 
 ^Each calendar slip was illu>liated by the author.^ 
 
 'January 2. 
 
 The New Year's love 
 And its promise gay, 
 
 Have driven the old 
 Year's cares away. 
 
 But the old Year's love 
 And the old Year's mirth, 
 
 Live on unchanged by 
 The New Year's birth. 
 
Mairh ij. 
 
 riiou know'st these hearts are firmly tied 
 
 With love's enduring twine ; 
 Thou know'st that, through thy spirit's power 
 
 These hearts are joined with thine ; 
 Thou know'st these youthful souls full well. 
 
 And spite of all their sins, 
 Thou know'st they love thee best of all — 
 
 These " Literary Twins." * 
 
 K. C. U and M. H I .) 
 
May I. 
 
 To-day when you think of the birds and the bees, 
 Of the blossoming flowers and the budding trees, 
 C^f the bhie Spring sky and the bright Spring weather, 
 And the sun and the showers that come together, 
 Dear ! — once in a while let }-our fancy stray 
 To a sirl whose name, like the month, is Ma\\ 
 
yiinc 20. 
 
 Fain would I sing as others do, 
 Songs of summer and love to you ; 
 
 But the staff is broken, 
 
 My lute's unstrung, 
 The notes are scattered the lines among, 
 And deep in my heart is my song — unsung. 
 
lo %. ©. ©. 
 
 In the morning, Katie darling, 
 
 When the sun in splendor laughs, 
 And you clamber up to Cummins', 
 
 Just to see your photographs— 
 When you find that you have taken 
 
 Just as many wrong as right, 
 Will you think of me, my cousin, 
 
 As I think of you to-night ? 
 
In the afternoon, my Katie, 
 
 When you woiiUI a blue-print make. 
 And the sun — so disobliging — 
 
 Will not shine for your sweet sake ; 
 When )-ou put your print in water. 
 
 And it isn't finished quite — 
 Will you think of me, oh Katie, 
 
 As I think of \ou to-ni"ht !> 
 
In the gloaming, dearest Katie, 
 
 When the lamps are soft and low. 
 And you watch the people passing 
 
 By your window, to and fro — 
 When you want to take a Kodak, 
 
 And there isn't any light — 
 Will you think of me, I wonder, 
 
 As I think of you to-night ? 
 
Morning, noon or evening, Katie, 
 
 When your Kodak meets )"our vieu , 
 W'lu-n you long for sweet communion 
 
 With a loyal heart and true — 
 When the clouds are dark and dreary. 
 
 Or the days are clear and briglit, 
 Think of me. and love me, Katie, 
 
 As I think of you to-night 
 
 {March, iSgr.) 
 
^iitlabij. 
 
 Dear little girl, good night, good night ; 
 
 The pretty birds in their nests are still ; 
 We watched the sun as he sank from sight 
 
 Over the tree tops on yonder hill. 
 Two stars have come since the daylight went, 
 
 'Way over there in the sky's dark blue ; 
 They must be angels God has sent 
 
 To watch my baby the whole night througli. 
 
Dear little girl, good night, good night, 
 
 1 hear the frogs in the mendow call ; 
 They croak and croak in the evening light, 
 
 Down in the ponii by the old stone wall. 
 1 think, perhaps, they tell the flowers 
 
 Never to fear, though the workl is dark ; 
 They know the firefly lights the hours 
 
 All night long with his cheerful spark. 
 
Dear little girl, good night, good night. 
 
 Dear little head with your silky hair ; 
 Dear little form that I hold so tight, 
 
 Cosy and warm in the nurser)' chair ; 
 White lids veiling the eyes so clear — 
 
 Over their blueness the fringes creep. 
 Slower and slower I rock you, dear ; 
 
 My little girl, asleep — asleep ! 
 
 ( Written for the "little coitiitcss," South Carolina — Pub- 
 lished October, iSg^. ) 
 
^ Talrnliiic. 
 
 T gave j'ou a piece of my heart one day — 
 ^'ou liadn't a cause to doubt it ; 
 
 l^ut yi)u shouldn't have stolen it all a\va\'. 
 p-Qr I'm lonely, dear, without it. 
 
 I'm used to going without it now, 
 I've almost ceased to mind it — 
 
 Except for an ominous aching \-oitl 
 That the heart has left behind it. 
 
 You've taken it all and it's )-ours for aye : 
 You I' l(.)ves and \'our cares are double ; 
 
 But, dear, do you need /rev hearts, and wli\- 
 When oih- is a work! of trouble^ 
 
'^mining iip fhUn-t. 
 
 I took your likeness, darling, 
 
 In happy summer hours ; 
 x\nci then to frame it fitly 
 
 I wreathed it round with flowers. 
 But flowers died when winter came. 
 And so I sought a fairer frame. 
 
I thought the planets worth)- 
 To crown )'ou as you are, 
 And so I took your Hkeness 
 And set it in a star. 
 Rut stars grow dim at morning ra>- 
 "S^our face is with me all tlic day. 
 
No frame I fouiul, ni)- darling, 
 
 In all the gems of art ; 
 
 And so I took your likeness 
 
 And put it in a heart — 
 
 For in m\' heart you reign alone, 
 
 My heart and I are all your own. 
 
 {SfptCllllhT, /S(^2. } 
 
yomi fa ^a|i;i on f is ^irH|hai|. 
 
 U'l/// II Cliiursc Idol. June 1 1, i8i)i . 
 
 'I'hih little man liom a loix-iyn clime. 
 ;\rrived this morning, just ow time. 
 He came from a thousand miles away. 
 ( hi purpose to be on hand to-day. 
 I'\>r even as far as far Chinee, 
 They've licard of the fame of M. S. T. 
 
 He brings, exclusive of classic smile. 
 Good wishes to last for an extra wliile ; 
 The Kmperor sends his kind regards 
 And all the Chinamen send their cards. 
 He also brings mucli love from me — 
 Commonly known as M. H. T. 
 
TarsES utitl| iljristmas iifts, 1892. 
 
 To Mothir: 
 
 To those we love, 'tis hard in words, to give 
 The tender thoughts that in our hearts ma)- li\ e 
 So take this gift and let your fancy's play 
 Suggest the loving things we cannot sa)-. 
 
 To Edith : 
 
 ll'itli a silver hair-pin. 
 
 My brown-eyed little lad)'. 
 
 My comfort and my care, 
 Accept this pretty hair-pin. 
 
 To hold your pretty hair. 
 And when your days are ended, 
 
 I hope you'll find, my love, 
 A crown of silver hair-pins 
 
 Awaiting you above. 
 
To Gyandiiiavtuia : 
 
 In case your spirit, soaring,' h\'^h 
 
 On filmy wings, 
 Elope with fanc\- from this sphere 
 
 Of mundane things, 
 This chain will hold you down to earth 
 
 Though light it be, 
 For it is weighted with the lo\-o 
 
 Of children three. 
 
 [ii^ a mi 
 
 The ties that bind my heart to you. 
 Are very firm and very true ; 
 Yet use this clasp, dear, if you will. 
 To hold our heart-strings closer still ; 
 For, loved one, as through life we go. 
 Our ties might sometimes slip, >'ou know. 
 
■^ J(OU£ ^Oliq. 
 
 When the summer's sun was briglit, love, 
 
 And the world was fair and free, 
 And the soft moon shone at night, lox-e, 
 
 Over the restless sea. 
 You came with wondrous charm. lo\'c. 
 
 On a happ)- summer day. 
 And with never a thought of harm, love, 
 
 You stole ni)- heart away. 
 
The sumniei' days are dead. Io\ e, 
 
 y\nd the world is white and chill ; 
 And the moon is pale and cold, love, 
 
 And the birds' sweet songs are still, 
 l^ut deep in ni\- heart to-(la\', lo\e, 
 
 lUirns hope's iind_\-ing gleam. 
 And hidden safeh- aw'a\', love, 
 
 Is the summer's blissful dream. 
 
 yPublishcd November, iSg^. Aftirwards arraiti^id 
 zi>ith music. ) 
 
'^ml^ f ig^t. 
 
 Ever against my window pane 
 Wearily beats the winter rain ; 
 Brown stand the trees, and toss on higli 
 Leafless branches against the sky, 
 And in tlie grey, uncertain light. 
 Drearily falls the winter night. 
 
 Low and ceaseless the sad winds sigh. 
 Mournfully crooning their lullaby, 
 Recklessly lifting, in fitful mirth, 
 Dead leaves up from the sodden earth. 
 Whirling them upwards out of sight. 
 Into the deepening winter night. 
 
Here in my chamber the light is low, 
 And in the firelight's crimson glow, 
 Ghostly, nickering shadows fall 
 Over the curtains and on the wall, 
 Weird storm-spirits of i)hantom might. 
 Haunting the gloomy winter night. 
 
 Little I reck of the driving storm. 
 Scarce I notice the shadows form ; 
 Sitting here in the firelight gleam, 
 Silent and happy, I think and dream — 
 Dreams of summer and love and light. 
 All untouched by the winter night. 
 
 (Fiil'lislnd iSq^.) 
 
 •-ii. .^^■^' 
 
Jfilics. 
 
 liaster lilits, tall and white, 
 
 Softly britjht ! 
 Tell my love for me to-da}- 
 All those things that I would sa\- 
 
 If I might. 
 
 Tell her that 1 love her, though 
 
 She will know. 
 Tell her tliat she holds for me 
 Life's divinest mystery — 
 
 Lilies, go ! 
 
She is tall and slender too, 
 
 Pure as you. 
 And her maiden heart is free ; 
 But if it should beat for mc, 
 
 I'll be true. 
 
 Will she frown that I with this 
 
 Send a kiss i" 
 In her hands I place to-da_\- 
 All man's love can gi\'e or sa\-. 
 Send me, darling, what you may- 
 
 Woe or bliss. 
 
 IPiihhsbeH.l 
 
 r,*fci,i^v»^..>, -i,- 
 
lo ^iJillj— ©II '^Dr ^iflEMt^ Itrl^bm/. 
 
 Softly blow the summer breezes, 
 
 In the grass the daisies nod, 
 Like a tarnished royal sceptre 
 
 Sways the half-ripe golden rod. 
 Underneath the cool green branches 
 
 Lie the shadows soft and grey. 
 And the birds, with happy carol. 
 
 Wish you every joy to-day. 
 
All day long the golden sunbeams 
 
 Dance and flicker in the grass. 
 All day long a song of welcome 
 
 Nature breathes where'er you pass : 
 And the tree tops bend above )-ou, 
 
 And the roses nod and swa\' — 
 K\'ery creature seems to lo\-c you 
 
 And to greet vour natal da\-. 
 
Down behind the purple hill tops 
 
 Drops the golden sun, to sleep ; 
 In the azure dome above you 
 
 Silver stars their watches keep. 
 And the evening breezes, sighing 
 
 By your window, seem to sa_v, 
 '• Sweetly sleep — the angels guard >-ou 
 
 Has it been a happy day ? " 
 
From the heart of one who loves you 
 
 'Rose a little pra)'er to-da\', 
 That the merciful all-Father 
 
 Guard and keep you on life's way, 
 Till within His Heavenly Kingdom, 
 
 With the thousands round His throne. 
 You shall spend a happier birthday 
 
 Than on earth was ever known. 
 
 August ^, /S'Sg. 1 
 
(^Di{iiEtri|. 
 
 Sweet Clover out in the meadow grows 
 
 Under a sky serene. 
 Coquette and coy as the royal Rose, 
 
 Is this dainty field flower queen. 
 She bends and bows to the passing breeze, 
 
 She flirts with the grasses tall. 
 She courts the kiss of the honey-bees — 
 
 She wooes and is wooed of all. 
 
Sweet Clover tosses her fragrant head. 
 
 Mid suitors that faint and sigh — 
 The Bee and the Zephyr who long to wed. 
 
 The Dew and the Butterfly. 
 She loves them all, but the fickle Miss 
 
 Can never to one be true — 
 And sometimes, dear, I've thought, in this 
 
 The Clover resembles yon. 
 
 {7ulj', 1894. 
 
:» ?m- 
 
 S/ir : 
 
 You kissed me, dear, when you said " good night. 
 
 Under the full of the summer moon. 
 My soul was a maiden's, pure and white, 
 And free as the breath of the fragrant June ; 
 But a woman's soul 
 
 Leaped forth to light 
 When you kissed me, dear, 
 As you said " good night." 
 
He 
 
 I kissed you. dear, when I said " good night." 
 
 \'oiir face was as fresh as a new-blown flower ; 
 Vour eyes U'ere sweet with _\'cuir soul's sweet light, 
 And I nibbed your heart of its girlhnod's dower. 
 Hut ni)' dark-ened soul 
 
 Grew strangeh' bright 
 When I kissed \'ou, dear. 
 As I said "good night." 
 
 [Piiblixlicd Octolnr. iSg^.) 
 
 t ■ 
 
IWrjttcli lur K. C. O j 
 
 I. 
 
 Unlike the man}' writers 
 Who, on the title page, 
 
 Are wont to dedicate their work 
 To friends of youth or age, 
 
 1, feeHng quite uncertain 
 
 Of what I have begun, 
 Will wait, before I dedicate, 
 
 Until my tale is done. 
 
 And if, when you have finisheil 
 My story, dearest friend, 
 
 Vou care to know for whom it is. 
 You'll find it at the end. 
 
 .^..^ 
 
II. 
 
 Twin sister of nu' soul — ni}- tale is ended. 
 
 A foolisli little stor)', short and trite ; 
 Hut if, perhaps, the dullness need be mended. 
 
 Your starry eyes will lend the pages light. 
 
 And if it lacks ui sentiment and sweetness. 
 In this, at least, my spirit may rejoice : 
 
 No ear will ever note its incompleteness 
 If you but give the music of your voice. 
 
 So take it, Katie, — take my little story, 
 For at your word it started into life ; 
 
 And, though the pages lend the name no glory 
 I dedicate it. dear, to Harry's wife. 
 
Ifoue unh Ji'ih. 
 
 [Song.] 
 
 Life is all too short for love, dear, 
 
 And the swift years fly away. 
 While the flo\\ers are always springing 
 
 And the time is alvva}'s Ma}-. 
 When the skv^ is blue above us 
 
 And the fragrant roses swa)-, 
 Life is all too short for love, dear, 
 
 As the swift years fly away. 
 
l.ife is all too long for pain, dear, 
 
 When our love has gone awaj'. 
 And the sad \'cars pass us slowly 
 
 And the skies are dull and grey — 
 When the rose leaves all lie scatteretl, 
 
 And the weeping willows swaj-. 
 Life is all too long for pain, dear, 
 
 When sweet lo\'e has had its da)-. 
 
 {Anaiigt'iiiciits of music were stiit to Maysic by two coinj>osc-i s, lui a 
 sung which hail appeared in Munsey's Magazine. One was already piili- 
 libhed. With the olhei came a note asking pernnssion to use hei woids 
 In ahuut Iwent\ minutes she wrote these lines and sent them to the cum- 
 poser.) 
 
To the Grace, May and Edith of long ago. 
 
 They played in a beautiful cloud-land, 
 
 Three children of by-gone years, 
 With never a care, or a thought to spare 
 
 For the future's laughter and tears. 
 And one was a gay little school girl ; 
 
 And one was a dreamer grave ; 
 And one was a gypsy with laughing eyes 
 
 And hair in a chestnut wave. 
 And they lived in a beautiful cloud-land 
 
 Till it happened, they knew not how, 
 From their kingdom of play, they wandered awaj' 
 
 And they never can find it now. 
 
oil, the mystical things that happened, 
 
 And the marvelous things they planned 
 Could never betide in the world outside 
 
 That magical wonder-lanil. 
 l"or one was a beautiful princess, 
 
 And one was a captive fair. 
 And one was a fairy in spangled gauze 
 
 With a wreath on her floating hair. 
 And they peopled their cloutl-land with beings 
 
 From all the tales they were told ; 
 With lady and knight, and spirits of light 
 
 And fair ones with locks of gold. 
 
 - J-, 
 
'Tis years since the wonder-land vanished ; 
 
 The three who were children then 
 Are facing the strife, and the lessons of life, 
 
 In a world of women and men. 
 The princess has many a lover, 
 
 The fairy charms with her wand, 
 And the dreamer lives in a land of dreams, 
 
 Shut out from the life beyond. 
 But sometimes they sit in the twilight 
 
 And talk with a smile and a sigh, 
 Of Wonder-land gay, that kingdom of pla\- 
 
 That vanished in da\-s gone b\-. 
 
 (7///)', 1894.) 
 
jSorii 'Sassfls. 
 
 She comes between the ripened ears — 
 The tall corn bows before itscjueen. 
 
 And in its whispering she hears 
 Sweet prophecies of joy unseen, 
 
 For her, Love's sweetest dream was born 
 
 Under the tassels of the corn. 
 
 The long green ribbons of the stalks 
 Caressing cling to gown and hair, 
 
 Unconscious of their touch she walks 
 And builds her castles in the air. 
 
 Love's first kiss came to her that morn 
 
 Under the tassels of the corn. 
 
 August g, iSg^. 
 
^utnsang. 
 
 Sunset glories fade in the west, 
 
 Grey stand the hills, and calm and blest, 
 
 Murmuring low in its tranquil rest, 
 
 Lies the sea. 
 
 Oh, Love, to thee. 
 Sweet sleep and dreamless rest. 
 
 -j«^-« 
 
Hark, the fisheniian's distant call ! 
 
 Slowly, solemnl)', cox'crinsr all. 
 
 Shade on shade, does the darkness fall. 
 
 Close thine eyes, 
 
 The daylight dies, 
 The nii^ht hides all. 
 
 See, the moon, with her silvery light, 
 Makes a pathway, shimmering, bright. 
 Over the waves, and through the niglit 
 
 Bright stars shine. 
 
 Oh, lady mine, 
 Sleep well ; good night I 
 
irouin-iifj ^aniJ. 
 
 The children, oh, the children ! 
 
 'Twas only yesterday 
 We heard their merr}' voices ring, 
 
 VVe watched them at their play. 
 
 And in the quiet reigning now 
 
 We try to understand. 
 They must have crossed the mystic bridge 
 
 That leads to Grown-up Land. 
 
 _.-*■ 
 
The children, i)h, the children ! 
 
 Wc almost seem to see 
 The happy eyes, the floating hair. 
 
 The faces full of cflee. 
 
 We hear tlie childish pleadings sweet, 
 We touch each little hand — 
 
 Just as we did before they found 
 The way to Grown-up Land. 
 
Tlie children, oh, the children ! 
 
 We love them now as then ; 
 (lur hearts are ver\' tender toward 
 
 Our women and uiir men. 
 
 Rut sometimes, as the jears gu b\-. 
 Our longing souls demand 
 
 The little children that we loved, 
 Who went to Grown-up Land. 
 
 {J''iiblis/icd Septtiii/u-r. iSgj. ) 
 
 ^-^-Sl^^-: 
 
"^ainfaottis. 
 
 Tile clouds came up on a summer da\'. 
 
 And covered a clear blue sky ; 
 They hid the face of the sun a\va_\-, 
 
 While the sudden storm .swept b\- ; 
 And the stricken flowers, when the fierce w inds blew. 
 
 Bent low to the tempest's power ; 
 Hut they smiled, in spite of their tears of dew. 
 
 In the rainbow, after the shower. 
 
The clouds come up when our life is bright, 
 
 And cover the sun away, 
 And the heart grows chill in the sudden night, 
 
 And longs for the vanished day ; 
 But the clouds pass by with the summer rain, 
 
 And tlien, like a storm-tossed flower. 
 The heart looks up, and is glad again, 
 
 In the rainbow, after the shower. 
 
 {Published.) 
 
" Hope hears the ringinj; 
 Of birtlula\- bells on high ; 
 h'aith, Hope and Love make 
 iVnswer with soft sinking, 
 
 - C/iristiiin Rossctti. 
 
^—■.^^Jfttt^x 'Hei^/ifi^ . 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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