jPS 3523 .E478 L5 1915 Copy 1 ^mv^h \ y \ ^ 'fittit ixxtk af ^ X. erses ^3/ i/iolet jCeiffh Fremad Publishing Co. Eau Claire, Wis. 1915 Copyrighted 1915 BY VIOLET LEIGH Bj transfer METAMORPHOSIS. I sowed love's seed in a field of shame; And flowers, fragrant, glowing And bright as crimson roses, came To bless me with their blowing. I dreamed I walked in gardens fair By Life's clear river shining; My flowers had turned to lilies rare: Love's power is past divining. — 5 — WHEN YOU ARE GONE. The sunlight pales when you are gone, And in the vales and on the lawn, The flowers seem to lose their gleam. I miss you, dear: your darling face, Your voice of cheer, your fond embrace, And all the while I miss your smile. But, Darling, when once more I know You're back again; the sun will glow, The flowers will shine with hues divine; Your voice so sweet will give me joy So fond, complete, and no alloy Shall dim our bliss: What's like your kiss? — 6 A LITTLE THOUGHT OF YOU. 'Tis a little thought of you That makes the day seem bright. 'Tis a little thought of you Makes sorrow seem all right. 'Tis a little thought of you That fills with rest the night. 'Tis a little thought of you, That wipes my tears away. 'Tis a little thought of you That gladdens every day. 'Tis a little thought of you Haunts all I do or say. 'Tis a little thought of you, No matter where you are, 'Tis a little thought of you That greets me from afar. 'Tis a little thought of you That is my guiding star. 7 — THE NARCISSUS AND THE ROSE. Pet, play you are Narcissus; Play I'm a crimson rose; And play Love comes to kiss us, On every wind that blows. Play we are in a garden, Not very far apart; A zephyr for the warden, To press us heart to heart. I'll whisper to the warden, (Such boldness love doth know.) "I prithee grant me pardon; Dear Wind, I love him so. Close to his heart, O, press me, Whenever you've a mind, Let his sweet breath caress me, And I will thank you, Wind." TWO FLOWERS. Two lovely little flowers Each in its destined place, Stood very near together In an alabaster vase. I played that one was you, dear, And I played that one was I. And they twined their leaves together — They were standing very nigh. And they murmured to each other: "How love's sweetness through us slips! May we stand like this forever, Heart to heart and lips to lips." Never, never in the daytime. Did they for a moment part. In the silence of the midnight Still they lingered, heart to heart. One by one, the petals faded. But in death they were most fair. With their leaves entwined together, Still they stood embracing there. Even death could not divide them — They were standing very nigh: I played that one was you, dear. And I played that one was I. 9 — ♦'IT'S A LITTLE SONG MY LOVER SANG." It's a little song my lover sang, And a little word he said, Will keep all sorrow from my heart Till I am cold and dead. 'Tis a little look my lover gave; And a little tale he told Will haunt me till I reach my grave, And I am dead and cold. — 10 RONDEAU. I waited for her, day by day, With heart and soul aflame: Bright shone the sun, but earth seemed gray — I waited for her, day by day, Then once when I was gone away. She came! I waited for her, day by day, The room seemed sad and mirth seemed tame; E'en music could not charm away The woe that filled my heart alway. I waited for her, day by day, Alas! when once I went away, She came. 11 "THE DOOR MY LOVE COMES THROUGH." This is the door my love comes through, In winter's frost and summer's dew. These are the steps his dear feet press, Before I know his fond caress. This is the door he opens wide. Ere he can hasten to my side, Dearest of all I ever knew, This is the door my love comes through. This is the door his dear hands touch, Ere I can see him. Ah, how much, I long to see him, day by day, Whenever he is gone away. 12 "DARLING, DARLING." The bell rings out in the early dawn: "Darling — Darling — " Over spire, and house, and lawn, "Darling — Darling — ' ' It seems so strange it should ring that word: "Darling — Darling — " The sweetest on earth that was ever heard "Darling — Darling — " At noon it rings again and again: "Darling — Darling — " It rings out plainly to women and men: "Darling — Darling — " But only lovers and poets hear, "Darling — Darling — " The message the bell rings loud and clear: "Darling — Darling — " At evening I hear the vesper bell: "Darling — Darling—" It has the same dear story to tell: "Darling — Darling — " Its tones are tender, and full and sweet "Darling — Darling — " And I dream it's your voice that I gladly greet: "Darling — Darling — " — 13 — THE MORNING MAIL. O love adored, To me restored! By the morning mail My love will write: O heart's delight! She will not fail, By the morning mail. When we parted, Broken-hearted, She was sweet and pale By ghostly white Of sad moonlight: She will not fail. By the morning mail. When I get her Precious letter, Roses of the dale In odors sweet My senses greet: She will not fail By the morning mail. — 14 — Eve or daytime, Work or playtime, Roaming hill and vale Or city's mart; My sweetheart Will never fail By the morning mail. Disappointed never, I'm waiting ever Missives tinted pale That she sends. Love-words lends: She will not fail By the morning mail. — 15 — THE LITTLE FLOCK. I shall meet again Upon the heavenly sward, — The little flock.; For thus the gracious Lord Hath given a golden promise In his word. "They shall come again From the enemy's land." Upon the hill of God Their feet shall stand. A harp of God within each hand The little flock. One shall be there To greet the eager sight, Who never in this world Beheld the light; They shall stretch their wings And take a flight, — The little flock. — 16 THE THREE WISE MEN. From the far east they journeyed. Those three wise men of old; And laid their gifts before Him: Myrrh, frankincense and gold. Each gift was rare and costly; But very far above The thought of worth intrinsic, The value of their love. From eastern land they journeyed With gladness from afar; They found the king of heaven Because they saw His star. O star of love, still shining For all who know His grace; And follow it forever, Until they see His face. — 17 — PRAYER. Thy dew is falling now. So let thy mercy fall On me, my Father, Thou Who seest all! For I have read within Thy precious Book of love, That Christ came, souls to win For heaven above. And he will be to you — His sheep who know him well; Like the soft, cooling dew To Israel. — II THE GARDEN OF THE HEART. 'Tis winter in the woodland; Snow covers all the green; But still the crimson roses And snowy lilies lean — Upon thy face they're blooming. I dream though far thou art. 'Tis fair and radiant summer In the garden of the heart. The chilly blasts are sighing Among the forest trees, The flowers low are lying That decked the verdant leas. Thy breath shall be my southwind When sunny days depart. 'Tis summer, glowing summer, In the garden of the heart. Touch me with fond caresses More soft than breath of May; For thou are dearer, dearer Than all the earth today. True hearts change not, beloved, When earth's warm days depart. I find love's fadeless summer In the garden of the heart. — 19 — THE LAND OF LOVE. You may travel way to India; Take a steamer to Cathay; Journey over land and ocean, 'Round the earth for many a day; Though for long years you should wander 'Neath the stars that gleam above There's a country that is fonder Where I roam, the land of love. Crossing neither land nor ocean, Sailing in the ship of dreams, I have gained the port of heaven In the place of That Which Seems. One should never half believe in Anything that he can prove; Oh, the country I would live in Is the happy land of love. Love, I sail out every morning On the rosy waves of light, All the lovely world adorning; Cast no anchor until night. I have found the port of heaven 'Neath the stars that gleam above; And I rest where joy is given. In the blessed land of love. — 20 — A VIOLIN OF JOSEPH DEL GESU. Like the rippling of a brooklet; Like the rich tones of a bell; Like bright scintillating sunshine Showering down a flowery dell; Sweet as all the birds of morning, Warbling in the warm spring days. Sings that violin of Gesu When the artist on it plays. Sing, until we shout in laughter! Sing, until we weep in tears! Sing, and we will take the memory Of the music through the years! Till we lay us down to slumber, Where none wake to laugh or weep, We'll remember the Guarnerius — In our hearts its strains we'll keep. Ninety years and more song's spirit. Dwelt inside that violin; Moved all hearts to deep emotion Dreaming of what might have been. For it speaks the soul's own language In each tender, liquid note — Voicing all unspoken longings. Gushing from its wondrous throat. — 21 Take it in your hands, O, artist, Let us hear how it can sing- With a touch like Paganini's, Lightly play each quivering string. Free the spirit that Guarnerius Prisoned in the violin Till he wakes Camilla Urso, Her immortal praise to win. IN IMITATION OF PAN. The wind doth pipe Aeolian airs of spring So wild and sweet! On footsteps fleet The wind as swift, Or snows adrift Or birds a-wing, I'd quickly hie Across the mead. To you low bank Of grasses rank, And clip a reed All overripe. Mellow and dry, And blow a note From out its throat As sweet and fine And half divine O. wind! as thine. — 22 — IT'S PAN. If you hear some tiny flutings Soft as ^ny baby's coo, Tender as a murmuring lover When his darling he would woo, Sweet as mocking bird or starling; Listen, listen, listen, darling; It's Pan. He's a reed clipped from the river, And some magic notes he blows, Setting love's fine harp a-quiver. As the music swells and flows. Listen darling, darling, darling. Sweet as nightingale or starling; It's Pan. People practical will tell you It's the wind a-whistling by. Never heed them for a moment, We know better, you and I. Sweet as mockingbird or starling. Listen darling, listen darling; It's Pan. 23 THE FIRST SPRING RAIN. The first spring rain On the window pane Sounds sweeter than fairy bells I list to the strain Of the glad refrain, And joy in my heart upwells. I lose the pain Of sorrow's bane; Forget all sighs and tears; The music's fain With might and main To banish all my fears. Melodies wane, Then rise again In whisperings all around. O sweet refrain Of pattering rain On roof and trees and ground. 24 EVENING. "Bubble, bubble," go the taters; Hiss and sputter goes the meat; Then dear mother sets the table. And we all sit down to eat. There the precious head of father Bows in reverential pose; And we join in prayer together, Unto God who all things knows. When the evening meal is over 'Round the crackling fire we sit. Brother reads a fairy story While the bright flames dance and flit. Then perhaps there is some music; All the voices join in song; Ere so merrily to dreamland All the happy children throng. — 25 — THE EVENING LAMP. On the evening lamp the shade is red. And a pleasant glow around is shed. All the faces dear, are gathered near In the tender beams and gentle cheer Of the evening lamp. In the evening when the lamp is lit, Flames of the firelight dance and flit On ceiling and wall to comfort all. And drive the chill from the air of fall- By the evening lamp. By the evening lamp, note the lovely grace Of home's queen — the mother — with peaceful face! How fondly she loves each one of the doves In the home nest! Dearest of all she proves By the evening lamp. Father's a man; more praise could not be Spoken in favor of such as he. Children, home, wife, are all his life And he finds his strength for earth's hard strife By the evening lamp. 26 By the evening lamp is a wondrous port To anchor trouble — the children's sport In thought care-free and full of glee Beguiles the moments as they flee By the evening lamp. O evening lamp, shine evermore, Though childhood's happy days he o'er! Though forth we go to learn life's woe Home's fireside dear no more to know By the eveninlg lamp. — 27 THE TEAKETTLE'S SONG. Stir up the fire, darling wife. I want to hear the kettle sing, Of all the soothing sounds of life, It is the dearest, sweetest thing. When I come home at close of day. From my sore labors hard and long It whispers all my care away — That old teakettle's gentle song. In heaven the harp may sound more sweet, Beyond the moon, and stars and sun; But naught more charming may I meet To cheer me till this life is done. Let poets sing of music fine, Of melodies so grand and gay; But that old teakettle for mine And me — low murmuring away. Pianos need a master hand From out their wires sweet sounds to draw. I'm quite enraptured when I stand. By the humblest thing I ever saw. While wondrous strains as e'er were sung. The old teakettle can emit; I listen to its witching tongue. As by the fireside oft I sit. — 28 WHEN THE WIND BLOWS DOWN THTE CHIMNEY. When the wind blows down the chimney, And the washin's in the tub, And dear mother is so busy That there aint no time for grub — Then I feel so melancholy That I somehow can't be jolly; The washboard sounds just awful — "Rub-a, rub-a, rub-a-rub" — When the wind blows down the chimney. When the wind blows down the chimney, The house gets full of smoke. How could a boy be happy? Gee, it almost makes me choke. If it wasn't for dear mother, I could never laugh and joke. When the wind blows down the chimney. When the wind blows down the chimney And the household's in a stew; Gee, I wisht that I could find Another job to do; But I'll bring the wood and water And help mother, as I oughter, Though I feel most dreadful blue, When the wind blows down the chimney. 29 — MUSIC OF THE WASHBOARD. The little maid is washing, She bends her pretty nose Above the shiny washboard Where foamy suds o'erflows. She plays a tune upon it In time and ever true: "Hoochy-poochy, hoochy-poochy Hoochy-poochy-hoo ! " The clothes are white and snowy Beneath her lovely hands. She wrings, and rubs and washes As by the tub she stands, The washboard makes the music So old, yet ever new: "Hoochy-poochy, hoochy-poochy Hoochy-poochy-hoo! " — 30 — THE SNOW SOLDIER. Come, little son, some snow we'll take — The last of all the year — And on the lawn a soldier make, A soldier, brave and dear. He'll have some black coal for his eyes. And dark brown moss for hair. It won't be long before he dies Dissolving into air. He's not as fine as daddy is, (Our solder brave and true). His hands are cold and cold the kiss That he will give to you. Ah! There he stands as straight as if His life were not quite done. He'll vanish with a warm spring whiff At one glance from the sun. 31 — THE FLAGS OF NORWAY. They are flying, the flags of Norway, They wave in the city street; While Old Glory hangs in the doorway — What need that a poet greet? For the banners a tale are telling More eloquent than speech; And their bright folds, proudly swelling, The hearts of all can reach. Still here is a humble token, I am speaking for Eau Claire — That love's bond is unbroken For the Daughters of Norway fair And the Sons of Norway, assembled In Eau Claire, pride of the west. Not one of us have dissembled In our thoughts of peace and rest. For Norway's Sons and Daughters, Who sought Columbia's strand From over the ocean waters And adopted it for their land, Will never forget old Norway With her scenes so grand and rare. Float the Stars and Stripes in the doorway, Near the flags of Norway fair! LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 015 908 996 4