'S 3531 .E44 P4 1913 Copy 1 Bj^ Mrs. R. E. Pennington □ aQQD.nDQDDDDda D a O O D Q D d D D DO O D O'D D DgPnOD D □ □ i^ □ aoDoaDD a D QD □ □ □ a a D □ a o a oiD did □ did □ dd dodo d □on Irpnham, Oiexaa, ipr. 25. 1913 ?^ f am0 Penn Poems Brenham, Texas, December 25, 1913 Bg Mrs. R. E. Pennington ■^'53 r3^ ^^V ■;3 5 To R. E. Pennington, mp Husband, the good man who has made Che world so bea utiful for me: to 6\J \jii a:,.A:ii^l«89 TO ELIJAH Fcr two an;l twenty years, dear heart, Yv'e've vvaiked the way of lifo together, "/'.'ith the same trust as at the start. We're bravely facing all the weather. On thill the swiftly fleeting years, In winter's snows and suns of May, There are no doubts and no sad tears, .^ov bve does brighten all the way. You know this sweeter, better way. And fair as a rose the eld world grows, Per as onward we go each day. You shield me from the wind that blows. A little looking for the light. With some spreading of the blue. And patience when 'tis sorrows night. Is so easy when with you. D(-ar heart, come good, and then come ill, L.ti skies o'ercast or shining bright. We'll slowly climb the rugged hill, And v/atch the coming lonely night. V/e'll wait and see when side by side, I.ife's sun sink down the golden west; Ce with mo pray, whate'er betide, When Cometh everlasting rest. "LOVE'S OLD SWEET SONG" (Made of Names of Songs) "In Calm October Days" they met, "In the Holy City," Her "Sweet Brown Eyes" attracted him. And she was quite pretty. "Thou'rt Like Unto a Fow'r," he cried, Of girls thou art my choice, I long to hear thee sing, I'd give "My Heart to Hear Thy Voice." The moon was rising "At Nightfall," And shining in glory. When he whispered so "Sweet and Low," The same dear old story. "I Love Thee,"'twas so old yet new. Of all stories the best, For happiness forever dwells, "Where Love Doth Build His Nest." I know my place "Within Your Heart," The blessed truth remains, I would not live "Without Thee," she said. For all this world contains. And wlien they wed for "Love's Coronation," "The Old Church Bell" will ring; "Fly Forth, 0, Gentle Dove," and tell The other birds to sing. "0, Perfect Love" attend their ways, Wherever they may roam, And just "The Sweetest Flow'r that Blows" Grow near their "Home,Sweet Home." May "Angels Ever Bright and Fair," Send blessings from afar. And sing. "The Lord In My Shepherd," Wh 'H they're "Crossing the Bar." NATURE'S CATHEDRAL Down forest ways, where green trees interlace, And sunlight comes so softly shining through. There's a cathedral vast, built in that place, By nature's lavish hand for me and you. On Sunday mornings we can go to church. When fu-st we hear the blue bells sweetly ring, And every feathered songbird leaves his perch To join the woodland choristers and sing. The yellow jonquil candles stand alight On sacred altar 'neath the oaken trees; And Easter lily — Spring's sweet acolyte, Is swinging perfumed censor to the breeze. Come learn a lesson of the forest way, And listen to the flower sermons rare; The pansy gives you food for thought each day. And modest violet hangs her head in prayer. For perfect peace and sweet content here giv'n Kneel down, with happy heart, on velvet sod, And offer thanks for this grand glimpse of heav'n. And chance to know Nature and Nature's God. THE POPPY SIGN The silken sign of the poppy, A place that has never grown old, 'Tia where pleasure always lingers. And sweetest dreams are ever sold. WHERE DO BUTTERFLIES SLEEP Whore do butterflies sleep at night? In what bower do they repose? Do they poise in a lily white, Or dream in tiie heart of a rose? To them does the queen of flowers The secret of perfume disclose? When they go from rosy bowers, Are they the sweet soul of the rose? Do they rest in the trees like birds, And softly fold their downy wings? Are they nightly flying in herds Up to the stars, these airy things? Does Queen Mab with her magic art Close their dear little shining eyes? Or do they pull her fairy cart To where the brightest m.oonbeam lies? Do biittcrilies play all night long Vv'ith merry elves and stars o'erhead? Or do they die singing a song Of the bulterfxy life they've led? CHR YSA N THEM UMS November weaves on her fairy loom The saddest si