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DIXIE HUNTER 
 
COPYRIGHT. JUNE, 1913, BY 
 
 DIXIE HUNTER LA ZANSKY 
 
 OAKLAND. CAL.. U. S. A. 
 
 PUBLISHED. JUNE 25, 1913 
 
 The Rix Press 
 South Berkeley, Califo^n 
 

 
 
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 ** If in an idle moment you should look, ]^ 
 
 I^ Upon some page of this — my little book; i^ 
 
 ^ I'm sure, dear one, your keen thought will divine, ^ 
 
 <yj The "love" that's written plainly 'neath each line. ^ 
 
 Jf Each simple verse in color dark or bright 
 
 5* May tell a little story — as I write, 
 
 5j But 'tween each line in "white" I send to-day, 
 
 5j My "love" — for white will never fade away. 
 
 
 
 
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 ^ I've a favorite heroine, just as you, 
 
 ^ Though she's not hke your Joan of Arc; ^ 
 
 V Rill «ri#» « met a« nnnl*» ae nmvp nnn ac IrllA. -jr 
 
 ^ But she's just as noble, as brave and as true, 
 
 Jj Tho' she's never made a mark. 
 
 <^ 
 
 ti I mean, that the world doesn't ring with praise, ^ 
 
 JO Of her deeds, tho' many she's done; ^ 
 
 5» She has never adopted a "fad" or a craze, 
 j» Nor social distinction has won. 
 
 ^ But she's patched little trousers and darned little clothes, 
 
 «>» 
 
 V And been up at her work, with the sun; 
 
 w And she's kissed all the "hurt" from a scratched little nose, 
 
 O Never once has her heart-ache, spoiled fun. 
 
 ^ And many a time when the "ends" wouldn't meet. 
 
 S 
 
 () Tho' she suffered, she spread cheer the while; 
 
 U She's run errands of mercy with sore, tired feet, 
 
 V And with always that beautiful smile. 't^ 
 
 I ^ 
 
 ^ She has many deep wrinkles and soft wavy hair, \ 
 
 ^ And her shoulders droop wearily, too ; ^i 
 
 ^ But to me there is nowhere a face more fair, ^^ 
 
 C) There was never a heart more true. ^ 
 
 ^ Her name is just — "Mary" — as plain as can be, c^ 
 
 ^ History's pages it never will grace ; j^ 
 
 ^ But I'd give, ah, so much, if once more I could see, v^ 
 
 ^ The smile on my "heroine's" face. ^ 
 
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 1^ iBwt (gift ta Sotip § 
 
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 i^ Had I the power to give all glorious things, -v) 
 
 C There's none I'd find half rare enough for thee; 
 
 U But Love, 'tis said, is grandest gift of all 
 
 li In all this wondrous world, o'er all the sea, ^ 
 
 '^ ? 
 
 tt And even though a man holds riches dear, ii» 
 
 'i Strives hard to gain, possess be his one aim, 
 
 V Within his heart must be a spot most drear _ 
 
 5j Love makes my heaven when I have thee, my own, 
 
 (>J But one moment I may hold thee to my breast; 
 
 Jf If he loves none, nor none's whole love can claim. iJ 
 
 J^ For Love can make the humblest seat a throne ; ij 
 
 S^ Without it, palaces be most dull and dark; ^ 
 
 ^ It wends its way to places all unknown, ]^ 
 <^ And sets the world a-going with its spark. 
 
 5 
 
 «vj My hell wakes, when within my dreams, I all alone, r^ 
 
 «\4 See in thy arms another claim her rest. r^ 
 
 «si Dear heart, how drear, how dark the world to me, (V 
 
 "^ 
 
 f\i Should I become unloved, forgotten, dead to thee. (% 
 
 
 
 
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 O Sing on little bird, sing on. 
 
 A &an$ in tifp l&ain § 
 
 O From the branch in that gnarled old tree, s< 
 
 ^j ror every sweet note, \<i 
 
 ^j From your swelling throat, <^ 
 
 ^^ Brings a lesson, long needed, to me. ^ 
 
 S '^ 
 
 rvs Dear little feathered fellow, rx 
 
 ^5 I am most ashamed to say. 
 
 ^ 1 was cross and weary, 
 
 J^ The whole world seemed dreary, 
 
 Jii 'Till I heard your song so gay. 
 
 ^ As I gloomily gazed from my window, 
 
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 •^^ I glanced at the tree, 
 
 f>i And you sang down to me. 
 
 O 
 
 
 
 And my heart felt a throb of pain. 
 
 Only now, little friend. 
 
 fyj 1 am most asnamea <o say, f^ 
 
 S I was cross and weary, »j 
 
 2 
 
 At the softly-falling rain, C> 
 
 ■ ■ ' ■ 2 
 
 O Ah, why should your song, little robin, ^ 
 
 i^ From the gnarled branch, cause me pain? ^ 
 
 ^\ Is it just because you, ^ 
 
 CTho' so small, are true blue, y 
 
 ^ And have courage to sing in the rain? ^ 
 
 While I, like a thankless creature. 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 J" When the sun was hidden from view, 
 
 W Sat down in the gloom, ^^ 
 
 O My whole soul out of tune, v\i 
 
 O Till I learned the sweet lesson from you. v>4 
 
 ^> So sing, little bird, sing on, 
 
 <» Every note so tender and true. 
 
 JSj All my gloom's at an end, ^ 
 
 J^ And I'll join in the chorus, with you. ij 
 
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 S Sn An (®lb ®ak SIrpt 
 
 ^ A beautiful, fragrant wild sweet-pea, S 
 
 *J Was tossing so graceful and gay 2 
 
 5j And scenting the air around her ^ 
 
 J^ In a most inviting way. 2 
 
 y And near, in the earth beside her, -> 
 
 5^ A tiny young bit of a tree j;^ 
 
 J^ Was struggling so hard to grow skyward, J^ 
 
 Jf Its efforts one almost could see. ^ 
 
 ** . . ^ 
 
 Q And I, in a way quite human, \i 
 
 *;* \* 
 
 W Sat down near the flower, to rest, •* 
 
 W And inhaled the delicate fragrance, § 
 
 S? • ^ 
 
 jJ And its petals I softly caressed, !^ 
 
 t % 
 
 Q I cast scarcely a glance at the sapling, ^ 
 
 ^ • • ^ 
 
 U So patiently looking above, \V 
 
 For the flower so dainty and fragrant, \v 
 
 ti Claimed all admiration and love. <5 
 
 Long after that beautiful spring day, ^ 
 
 
 
 O With a heart-ache and sore lagging feet, ^ 
 
 I again took my way to that meadow, ^ 
 
 For relief from the sweltering heat. s5 
 
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 »\ On the fence where the wild fragrant flower, ^ 
 
 1^ Had danced and waved in the breeze, ^ 
 
 Q Were matted and twisted some dried up stalks, 
 ^J And around lay withered leaves. 
 
 
 
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 W But near where the poor little sapling, L^ 
 
 Jy Had struggled so bravely to rise, ^ 
 
 J« Stood a hardy oak, with wide spreading limbs, ^ 
 
 5^ And it looked so serene and so wise. q 
 
 V As against it I rested in comfort, ^ 
 '^ . . ? 
 t) So cool in its generous shade, 
 
 From its heart, came a message so soothing, 
 
 V And I thought of mistakes I had made. -. 
 
 ** . . . " 
 
 ^ Thinking only the daintily-fragrant, 
 
 <%» 
 
 U Brightly colored, could beautiful be; 
 
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 How great and how noble the comforting heart 
 
 ^0 
 
 ^ That lived in that mighty oak tree! 
 
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 ^"J Sometimes my heart, dear, seems so heavy, ^ 
 
 ^ I feel so lone — so drear to-day, f? 
 
 ^ Why don't you come to cheer me, darling? ^ 
 
 «\ Come, drive my gloomy thoughts away. k 
 
 ^ . . . ^ 
 
 ^ I sit within my lonely chamber, 
 
 ^ Outside it rains — the wind a gale C> 
 
 ^ Blows, sometimes shrieking as in anguish, Qj 
 
 Then dies away — a mournful wail. ^ 
 
 '>j I sit and dream of you, my darling, ^ 
 
 'i^ Your face in memory's frame I see, ^ 
 
 SBut, ah ! Your smiles, dear, are for others, ^ 
 
 ^ You have no time to think of me. 9 
 
 s . . § 
 
 <y3 And yet, it seems to me unkind, dear, tl 
 
 ^ That God should let me love you so, Oi 
 
 ^ When I may never have you, dearest, (Jk 
 
 *^ For all my own, ah! me, such woe. ^ 
 
 (^ ... -^ 
 
 ^ Tis quiet now, the rain is ceasing, (> 
 
 6 \^ 
 
 «» The sun peeps out — the clouds depart, (^ 
 
 •vi The storm without is calmed, oh! why, dear, ^ 
 
 ^ Must storms still rage within my heart. ^ 
 
 2 I 
 
 
But thy perfume will still remain. 
 
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 S fHg Spauttful Soar r» 
 
 J^ In my garden blooms a beautiful rose, ^ 
 
 j5j So fragrant, so fair to see, j^ 
 
 j^ I am sure no lovelier flower grows, Ji^ 
 
 5j And it blossoms alone, for me. ~ 
 
 J» I water it — tend it with loving care, ^ 
 
 y My love for it no one knows, j^ 
 
 5f Its fragrance with no one else I share, 2J 
 
 S My beautiful, beautiful rose. Sj 
 
 O '^ 
 
 tl I go in the morn to gaze at my flower, '«* 
 
 y The dews in its heart repose, "^ 
 
 J" A sunbeam caressingly steals in its bower, 1^ 
 
 y And kisses my glorious rose. S 
 
 V But I know that sometime its petals must fall, ^ 
 
 My pretty rose — dead will be, ^ 
 
 © 1 will find it gone, I may cry and call, ■*> 
 
 y My rose no more I shall see. ^ 
 
 § I 
 
 "^ . . . (> 
 
 And think you I'll scatter its poor, dead leaves, \^ 
 
 5? . ^ 
 
 W To the winds — forget my flower? %* 
 
 tU Dear, sweet, fragrant rose, who e'er could believe, ^^ 
 
 <^ , . a 
 
 ^ I'd forget you in one short hour? '^ 
 
 1 § 
 t^ Sweet petals I'll lift them one by one, ^ 
 
 t) Though I know my heart will pain; <^ 
 
 ^ Thy beauty dear rose, will be faded and gone, ^ 
 
 

 iluBt a Oltiou^tft 
 
 ^ Earth's beauties now, have grown n^ 
 
 ^ A ihniisand fold. rt 
 
 V A heavy darksome cloud, 
 J^ The world is grey; 
 
 ^ No ray of light, to cheer 
 Jg The lonely day. 
 
 ^ A flood of gold the hills 
 
 *!? 
 
 ?f Doth now enfold; 
 
 A thousand fold. 
 
 li Stern duties call to us, 
 
 O To quit the throng 
 
 ^ On idle pleasure bent, 
 
 *» To struggle on. 
 
 «^ 
 
 C We lend our ear, but go 
 
 r« 
 
 ti With halting feet, 
 
 O The road seems rough; to stay 
 
 V Awhile were sweet. 
 
 y As earth gains beauty, both ^ 
 
 t) From sun and rain. 
 
 Our lives to grow, must know 
 
 y Both joy and pam. 
 
 
 
 t>i tr ■ I- 
 
 ^^ Ir m our toilmg 
 
 ^ Must pause awhile, 
 
 |5 Let's light some struggler s way 
 
 we 
 
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 O With sunny smile. § 
 
 ^ I 
 
 
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 8 3t &ppma to fif 
 
 It seems to me, 
 V If I were loved, dear heart, by you, 
 
 1^ If just for me, 
 
 8 Your kindly heart beat fond and true, - 
 
 JJ I'd sino v/ith hannv heart '^ 
 
 % 
 
 With those from thee. 
 It seems to me. 
 
 I'd sing with happy heart 
 The whole day through, 
 ^ It seems to me. 
 
 y And then it seems, _. 
 
 V If I should get a loving thought, j^ 
 
 I* Just one — from you, 
 
 y My troubles all would seem at naught, ^ 
 
 ^ My toil seem light, tho', oh, m| 
 
 ^ So hard I wrought, »{ 
 
 ^ T ^ 
 
 ^ It seems to me. rv 
 
 5 To me it seems, JS 
 
 S No matter who the giver be, ^ 
 
 ^ I'd surely feel ^ 
 
 J^ The blessing of kind thoughts, for me; p? 
 
 ^ A double blessing, dear, rJ 
 
 
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 J^ Dear hills you are grandly beautiful, Jj 
 
 5» Standing outlined 'gainst the blue; J^ 
 
 Jj Always there, faithful and dutiful, ^ 
 
 ^ What dwells in the heart of you? J^ 
 
 t* Were the beautiful curves of your bosom, j^ 
 
 JO Placed there from a deep swelling sigh? _ 
 
 V When the clouds hang so low, — are you lonesome, ^ 
 jg Is it pride makes your peaks stand so high? ^ 
 
 V Just what do you feel, when the trees sway ^ 
 %> And toss, in the wind and the rain? '^ 
 w They look, dear old hills, in a strange way, ^ 
 
 V Like great arms flung out wildly in pain. jg 
 
 6 When the streams start, so madly rushing >^ 
 
 ;» • • ^ 
 
 O Down your sides, taking rocks as they go, ^ 
 
 %l The waters look dark, like blood gushing ^ 
 
 i? . . ^ 
 
 %k From a wound, dear old hills, is it so? "^ 
 
 S S 
 
 ^ And is it a wound — does it hurt you, ^ 
 
 1^ When the rocks are torn out of your breast? ^ 
 
 ^ When men dig and pierce your poor heart through, ^ 
 
 1^ Does't grieve you, that they mar your rest? ^ 
 
 I S 
 
 ^ And dear hills, the beautiful flowers, ^ 
 
 ^ That bloom on your breast in the spring, ^ 
 
 ^ All fragrant from sunshine and showers, ^ 
 
 Q Do they soothe you, and happiness bring? ^ 
 
 I ^ 
 
I ^ 
 
 »\ But yes — for are they not your treasures, ^ 
 
 ^ Little children, that grew in your heart? ^ 
 
 ^ They must fill with unending pleasures, ^ 
 
 ^j The great life, of which they are a part. ^ 
 
 9 ... ^ 
 
 J^ I love you, dear hills, and I'm hoping Q) 
 
 ^ On your great, tender bosom to lay; O* 
 
 »j Just where your dear breast's softly sloping; ^ 
 
 tj Will you tell me your secrets some day? ^ 
 
 ■"* Ok 
 
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o ^ 
 
 O Sunlight and shadow, my darling, ^ 
 
 Ah, beloved, that is sweetest and best, 
 
 
 O Enfold me in mists every day; 
 
 O Sunlight when you're with me, my sweetheart, 
 
 O Deep shadows when you are away. 
 
 O 
 
 O I long with a longing that's anguish, ^ 
 
 O For a glance of eyes, tender and true; q5 
 
 O Ah, come dearest one, and caress me, <5 
 
 O I'm hungry, dear, starving for you! ^^ 
 
 i ^ 
 
 ^ Come, fold me in arms strong and restful, c^ 
 
 %^ Let my weary head lay on your breast; c!i 
 
 Press your lips soft and warm, to my own, dear, ^ 
 
 V 
 
 ^ Hold me fast, when I'm losing my way. dear, ^ 
 
 ^j In the dazzling light that you bring; 5^ 
 
 y With your kiss you have wakened my soul, sweet, ^ 
 
 <j And have made my sad heart wildly sing. ?!^ 
 
 -J Come, hurry, beloved, lest the shadows ^ 
 
 ^i That shroud me, when you are not here, X 
 
 ^ Cast me down to the depths of despair, love, ^ 
 
 ^ Let the sunshine remain ever near. ^ 
 
 S . S 
 
 ^ Sunlight and shadows, my darling, Oj 
 
 !\ Enfold me in mists every day; 5* 
 
 S Sunlight when you're with me, beloved, 9 
 
 •\ Deep shadows when you are away. 9 
 
o 
 
 'Tis said a love thought travels, 
 
 Beheve it ; 
 I send one every night, dear. 
 
 Receive it. 
 How do I send it, dear one. 
 
 Whisper this — 
 "Take on your perfumed breath, my 
 
 Sweetest kiss." 
 C 
 
 
 
 S 
 
 You would know? S 
 
 Believe me, 'tis great joy to ^ 
 
 Bid it go. ^ 
 
 Tis wafted, dear, to you on oj 
 
 Gentle breeze, ^ 
 
 Sometimes from flowers, sometimes ^ 
 
 ^ From the trees. ^ 
 
 Z ■ % 
 
 If nights are dark, and winter rv 
 
 Winds do blow, ^S 
 
 I bid them take my message (^ 
 
 As they go. <i 
 
 When seasons change, winter has Sj 
 
 Passed away, 9* 
 
 V When comes the spring, with soft and i^ 
 
 \j Balmy day; ^ 
 
 "' ... ^ 
 
 y Strolling, at dark, 'mid flowers I ^J 
 
 V, 
 
 § 
 
 1 
 
I I 
 
 No matter, dear, how long the day has been 9 
 
 With all its smiles or tears — its joys or sighs, 9 
 
 If at the twilight hour, one thought serene 5 
 
 Of you, doth flash across my lonely skies. ^ 
 
 To feel — to know that you are safe and well, ^ 
 
 And have perhaps some kindly thought of me, ^ 
 
 Is worth to me — ah more than tongue can tell, ^ 
 
 More, more than all things else can ever be. 5* 
 
 And tho* beloved I cannot think to count ^ 
 
 So very much to you — in busy hour; ^ 
 
 Sometimes I would be a refreshing fount, ^ 
 
 Or simply bloom within your heart, a flower. ^ 
 
 C Not bright, nor beautiful, your heart to sway, v5 
 
 ^ But simply sweet; a violet in the bower, ^ 
 
 To lend some touch of sweetness to your day, J^ 
 
 To cheer you with my bloom in some lone hour. ^ 
 
 To know we'er living on the same old earth. 
 Above us, dear, the same blue sky, same moon, 
 
 And every thing, of great or lesser worth. 
 
 And sometimes, too, an hour that flies too soon. 
 
 C 
 
 C 
 'V 
 
 I^ I'll bloom and bloom thro' bitterness or strife; 
 
 J^ I'll ne'er desert you in a darksome hour; 
 
 C I'll try to add some sweetness to your life 
 
 C In just that way — a humble little flower. 
 
 "- And tho' some day you'll pluck me from the spot 9 
 
 •V So small I've tried with all my soul to fill; ^ 
 
 t>: Crush me you may — but kill me quite cannot ; ^ 
 
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 ^s Some subtle scent of love will linger still. ft 
 
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