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*'THE FARMER BOY" 
 AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 DANIEL M. PETERS 
 
 THE 
 
 Bbhcy press 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
 1 14 
 
 FIFTH AVENUE 
 
 Condon NEW YORK IRontrcal 
 
T5 3X31 
 
 r" 
 
 Copyright, 1901, 
 
 by 
 
 THE 
 
 Hbbcy press 
 
DANIEL M. PETERS. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE. 
 
 n The author of "Songs From Nature" was 
 horn in the school district of West Hills, Long 
 Island, New York, on February loth, 1874. He 
 is descended from an old American family. His 
 father, Moses Peters, an estimable gentleman, 
 owned and tilled the farm on which the present 
 author was born, and which affords much of the 
 scenery for his romance, "The Farmer Boy." 
 From childhood he was imaginative and poetic. 
 He thought deeply and Nature appealed to him, 
 to he pictured in verse. The result is the collec- 
 tion of poems now offered to the public under 
 the above title. 
 
 THE PUBLISHERS. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Farmer Boy : Part First , 6 
 
 Part Second 17 
 
 Part Third 27 
 
 Part Fourth. . , 39 
 
 The Soul of Music 48 
 
 Broken Strings 50 
 
 The Philosophy of the Muse 53 
 
 Nature's Song 54 
 
 The Robin's Song 56 
 
 The Forward Cry of Social Evolution 57 
 
 Life Ships 59 
 
 In Memory of Little Frankie 61 
 
 The Leaves of Life 62 
 
 Farewell Lines to a Young Friend 6^ 
 
 Baby's Good-Night 65 
 
SONGS FROM NATURE 
 
 A Farmer Boy 
 
 A pastoral, romantic poem, in Four Parts, humbly 
 inscribed to Miss Marie Brewster. 
 
 PART FIRST 
 
 When Night began to flee away 
 The chanticleer saluted Day, 
 And Morning Star, with failing eye. 
 Beheld the shadows swiftly fly. 
 
 Fair Day approached from out the East 
 And softly sipped her dewy feast. 
 And ere her cheek of crimson hue 
 Reflected on the Heaven's blue 
 The farmer boy awoke from sleep ; 
 From dreamland where the Fancies keep 
 A gala time ; when they reveal 
 Their forms, as o'er the mind they steal. 
 
 7 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 He recognized that Night had fled 
 
 And quickly left his cozy bed ; 
 
 He stroked his hair, all flaxen curled, 
 
 While swiftly through his mind there whirled 
 
 His morning work as it should be. 
 
 He rubbed his eyes, and tried to see, 
 
 And wished that he could sleep away 
 
 Until the broader break of day; 
 
 And wished a score of other things. 
 
 And almost wished that he had wings 
 
 With which to fly from all he knew. 
 
 And have no morning chores to do. 
 
 When he had dressed he quickly went 
 
 Outdoors to get the greeting sent 
 
 Unto him from the morning sky ; 
 
 'Twas Moon's "good morning" and "good-bye. 
 
 "Fair Moon," thought he, "you see the earth 
 
 From death of Day till Morning's birth ; 
 
 You see the good, the bad as well. 
 
 And can you naught to mortals tell ? 
 
 O, Moon, that lookest far away. 
 
 And watchest for the coming day. 
 
 Inform me if there's any joy 
 
 For me, a humble farmer boy." 
 
 8 
 
The Farmer Boy 
 
 The watchdog came in bounding glee 
 And stopped our hero's reverie, 
 For Rover loved the farmer boy, 
 And when he saw him barked for joy; 
 'Twould follow him throughout the day 
 And in the ev'ning with him play. 
 He stroked his faithful canine friend 
 And toward the barn his way did wend, 
 While robin's song beyond compare 
 Did sweetly vocalize the air, 
 And catbirds in the cherry trees 
 Trilled out their mocking minstrelsies. 
 
 He op'd the door, when on his ear 
 Fell all the mingled morning cheer 
 Of live-stock's bleat, and low, and neigh, 
 Which said : "We wish you happy day, 
 We wish you all that you may need. 
 And, by the way, we wish some feed." 
 The while his work went light along 
 He sang this little lover's song : 
 
 Listen, my darling one. 
 Hear me, I pray: 
 
 Thou art the glowing sun 
 Of my life's day. 
 
 9 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 // thou art by my side 
 
 Nothing I'll fear; 
 Wilt thou be my fair bride f 
 
 Tell me, my dear. 
 
 Dearest, my inmost soul 
 
 Clings unto thee ; 
 And while the years shall roll 
 
 Ever 'twill he. 
 
 Thy face is fair to me, 
 
 Thy form complete; 
 Hear, zvhile I bow to thee, 
 
 Low at thy feet. 
 
 Thy soul I know is pure, 
 
 Thy senses Une; 
 Thou art and shalt endure 
 
 Almost divine. 
 
 Who would not love thee well 
 
 If he hut knezvf 
 Hear me, then, while I tell 
 
 Love that is true. 
 
 to 
 
The Farmer Boy 
 
 The farmer had some fertile land, 
 And had some money, too, on hand; 
 He was a surly, crabbed man. 
 Who never fancied Nature's plan. 
 If it was cold he'd have it warm, 
 It is was fair he'd have it storm. 
 If it was wet he'd have it dry — 
 If he could rule both earth and sky. 
 
 His only child, a daughter fair, 
 Whose lovely, long and flaxen hair, 
 Expressive eye and glowing cheek. 
 Whose changing tints did ever speak. 
 Whose perfect form and modest mien, 
 And carriage graceful as a queen. 
 Made her the fairest to be found 
 Among the girls for miles around, 
 Was heir to all his fertile land. 
 He hoped to give her lovely hand 
 To some young suitor with estate, 
 But she thought not of wedlock fate. 
 
 Her heart was light and full of joy, 
 Her soul was pure without alloy, 
 Her disposition soft and kind, 
 More pleasant girl one could not find ; 
 And she was often heard to sing 
 A song of welcome unto Spring: 
 U . 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 0, rosy cheeked, laughing eyed Spring, you are 
 
 here; 
 I heard your szveet voice with its message of 
 
 cheer; 
 I love your young beauty each year to behold, 
 In green and pink dresses and bonnet of gold. 
 
 Old Winter your frolic and music doth dread. 
 And in his white cloak he has gone to his bed; 
 About you the fruit trees their blossoms they 
 
 strew. 
 And flowers are nodding their welcome to you. 
 
 The lambs catch your spirit and leap all around. 
 For Frost King has fled from his throne in the 
 
 ground; 
 The birds introduce you with beautiful songs. 
 You come to deal justly and do us no wrongs. 
 
 We give you our loyalty, join in your mirth. 
 Proclaim you the queen of the verdure clad 
 earth. 
 
 Then Spring had come and heard the lay 
 That met her ear from day to day, 
 And well might Spring incline her ear 
 A voice so beautiful to hear — 
 \2 
 
The Farmer Boy 
 
 Though Spring's flow'r-laden hand was seen 
 
 To clothe the earth in verdant sheen, 
 
 Though Spring made musical the breeze 
 
 Which wandered through the forest trees, 
 
 Though Spring from Southland brought along 
 
 The gaudy feathered birds of song 
 
 That all the day in sylvan dell. 
 
 Or sunlit treetop, love so well 
 
 To strain their little throats to sing 
 
 Their praises to the charming Spring. 
 
 Though Nature's voices joined in choir, 
 
 To chant her praises did aspire, 
 
 Yet Spring ne'er heard a voice more sweet, 
 
 Saw form more charmingly complete, 
 
 Nor ever saw a mortal face 
 
 More fair, in all her lengthy race. 
 
 And Spring stood listening while rang 
 
 The notes the farmer's daughter sang. 
 
 Our heroine did rove a while 
 
 About the orchard to beguile 
 
 The time, by watching, o'er the grass 
 
 The fleeting shadows swiftly pass. 
 
 She watched them leave the distant hill. 
 
 Pursued by light, and watched until 
 
 They moved across the vale and drew 
 
 Each moment nearer, and they flew 
 
 13 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 Beyond her, urging still their flight 
 Till woodland hid them from her sight; 
 Or saw the sunlight by the breeze 
 So weirdly filtered through the trees. 
 
 She loved dear Nature's bsauty rare, 
 And loved — ah, love would not stop there; 
 There was a love she would not tell, 
 Which in her heart did sweetly dwell. 
 
 The while she mused beneath the tree 
 The neighbor's son had come to see 
 And talk with her, and on his way 
 Had gathered a superb bouquet 
 Of flowers, which, with bashful air, 
 He fastened in her lovely hair. 
 
 They talked of crops, and birds, and bees, 
 And of the blossom-laden trees — 
 Restrained by love's evasive art 
 He said not what was in his heart — 
 Their conversation led full soon 
 Unto the race that afternoon. 
 For six good horses would be in 
 And each one had a chance to win. 
 She said, with little glance aside: 
 "The farmer boy ir> tends <:o ride 
 
 H 
 
The Farmer Boy 
 
 Our racer, and I heard him say 
 That he would win the race to-day." 
 If he had seen the gentle flame 
 That ht her cheek when that dear name 
 To her, "the farmer boy," she said, 
 His hopes would rapidly have fled. 
 But man, when loving womankind. 
 Is rendered deaf and dumb and blind. 
 
 The hours fled by, and at the place 
 Where would occur the running race 
 The people gathered, and a gay 
 And merry crowd they were that day. 
 
 The men in groups were forming fast 
 And talking of the races past. 
 Of rider and of racing horse, 
 And the condition of the course. 
 
 The time had come to start the race ; 
 The racers came. Each rider's face 
 Was firmly set. The horses knew 
 Exactly what they ought to do. 
 They faced the starter, then the words. 
 And they were off. As swift as birds 
 They flew along the course. At first 
 There was a very rapid burst 
 
 J5 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 Of speed, and then they slower ran 
 Until the second mile began. 
 The farmer's horse, with easy stride, 
 Was running well, and kept beside 
 The pride of all the country round; 
 A lovely horse, whose ev'ry bound 
 Revealed a store of strength suppressed, 
 Which argued ill for all the rest. 
 
 When all but half a mile was run 
 The final struggle was begun. 
 The last two horses showed their speed 
 And soon the fav'rite had the lead. 
 The farmer's horse, not half a length 
 Behind, revealed his staying strength. 
 They ran into the stretch abreast. 
 And far ahead of all the rest ; 
 And then the final struggle told 
 The horse that should the trophy hold. 
 
 Our hero spoke some words of cheer 
 Unto his horse, and it did hear. 
 It loved the farmer boy, and knew 
 What he expected it to do. 
 Though short the race that yet remained 
 Its muscles and its sinews strained; 
 Like arrow o'er the track it sped 
 And crossed the line a neck ahead. 
 
 i6 
 
The Farmer Boy 
 
 PART SECOND 
 
 *Twas winter time ; the sun on high 
 
 Was shining from a cloudless sky, 
 
 And through the frosty air its glow 
 
 Met little else than ice and snow. 
 
 The eye beheld a lovely sight 
 
 In Nature clad in garment white, 
 
 And decked with diamonds, ev'ry one 
 
 A brilliant offspring of the sun. 
 
 The lakes the dazzling style obeyed 
 
 And each a crystal garment made, 
 
 For robe of beauty, and to save 
 
 The creatures living in their wave. 
 
 O'er that transparent cloak so bright 
 
 The skaters glided with delight. 
 
 How safely God doth keep the earth ! 
 
 Though we imagine that its worth 
 
 Is very little in the Eye 
 
 That guards the countless worlds on high. 
 
 Yet He doth watch the blades of grass, 
 
 And all the insects which we pass 
 
 17 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 And seldom have the sHghtest thought 
 How marvelously they are wrought. 
 But He above who gave them birth, 
 And knows their duties, knows their worth. 
 When hoary Winter cometh forth 
 Upon the tempest from the North, 
 Intent on slaying ev'ry one 
 Of those wee lovers of the sun, 
 The crystal cloak is placed o'erhead 
 To shield them from his freezing tread. 
 Is not it just that field and wood. 
 In springtime, whisper, "God is good"? 
 
 The snowbirds sang their simple lay 
 More blithely on the holy day. 
 When Earth assumed her festal mirth 
 In honor of the Saviour's birth. 
 
 As soon as all the chores were done 
 The farmer's boy was seeking fun ; 
 And, knowing nothing else to do. 
 He took the long bob-sled, and drew 
 It up the lengthy westward hill 
 And coasted there alone, until 
 The farmer's daughter came to see 
 Him sleighing, and was pleased to be 
 A partner in the winter joy, 
 When asked to by the farmer boy. 
 
 Id 
 
The Farmer Boy 
 
 "Love lightens labor," people say, 
 And love gives happiness to play. 
 The joyful hours flew swiftly o'er 
 Them, while the sun did higher soar, 
 "When swiftly down the hill they sped 
 Like them the moments quickly fled. 
 And when he drew the sled, as back 
 Along the smoothly beaten track 
 They walked, conversing, side by side, 
 And each endeavored hard to hide 
 The love so manifest that each 
 Revealed it plainer than by speech, 
 The time, thus charmed by love, did flow, 
 Did swiftly and unheeded go. 
 
 At length they saw the winter sun 
 So near the zenith that the fun 
 Of coasting for the time must end ; 
 And while the pair did homeward wend 
 The boy decided to implore 
 The charmer whom he did adore, 
 And strive to win her heart and hand 
 (He cared not for her father's land). 
 The while he formed his dear request 
 His heart was thumping in his breast; 
 So prettily he would propose. 
 His words would win his fiercest foes. 
 
 \9 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 He started — failed — observed her charms, 
 
 And then he clasped her in his arms 
 
 And stammered : "Darling !" That sweet name 
 
 With overwhelming passion came 
 
 From his pale lips. He could not speak 
 
 Another word, and down his cheek 
 
 The teardrops ran. She gently freed 
 
 Herself and answered : "There's no need 
 
 For you to say the rest; release 
 
 Me, and that silly sobbing cease. 
 
 I know what you desired to say; 
 
 You'll feel the passion but a day ; 
 
 You'll change your mind ; I think that some 
 
 More handsome girl will soon become 
 
 Your sweetheart, and you will forget 
 
 That ever thus your cheeks were wet. 
 
 I think your passion cannot last 
 
 Till all the years of life are past." 
 
 I would not spoil a picture fair. 
 And so I left the couple there ; 
 And to the mother took my way, 
 And listened on the Christmas day. 
 The while she sang about the birth 
 Of God's own Offspring come to earth : 
 
 20 
 
The Farmer Boy 
 
 Jewish priesthood in the temple 
 Worshipping the great I Am; 
 
 Seeking to approach His presence 
 Through the sacrificial lamb. 
 
 Learned Grecian ever yearning 
 For the God of truth and grace; 
 
 With the lamp of research turning 
 Through the dark to ev'ry place. 
 
 Worshippers of Hre and brightness, 
 With their astronomic gaze. 
 
 Looking for the star of promise 
 Pointing God-ward with its rays. 
 
 Rude barbarians accepting 
 Anything to be their shrine. 
 
 Though unknozving ever yearning 
 For their Maker, the Divine. 
 
 But unto some lowly shepherds, 
 Came the wished-for, joyful word; 
 
 "Go to Bethlehem and find Him," 
 Was the carol that they heard. 
 
 21 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 Found in Bethlehem of Judah, 
 He the great and unde filed; 
 
 Wonder of all zvonders was it. 
 There they found a little child! 
 
 Nestling in that lowly cradle. 
 With his mother and his God, 
 
 Lay unknown the long-sought Saviour, 
 Who high heaven s halls had trod. 
 
 Still among us He is reigning. 
 Angels from the courts above. 
 
 Whisper softly through the silence, 
 God is pureness, wisdom, love. 
 
 The sun was wending westward fast, 
 And had beyond the zenith past; 
 And bent its warm, benignant smile, 
 Upon the narrow vale the while, 
 Where moved without a hope or joy, 
 Our loving, lovely, farmer boy. 
 
 He had been hearing all the morn 
 The bay of hound, and hunter's horn. 
 But all was silent then, the chase 
 Had moved unto some distant place. 
 
 22 
 
The Farmer Boy 
 
 He thought that he could join it, though, 
 And quickly set about to go. 
 He saddled him a hunting horse 
 (For he was favored by the boss. 
 To take a horse, a dog, a gun 
 On holiday, and have some fun). 
 He called his dog and got his horn. 
 Then mounted and was quickly gone. 
 
 To southward, silently and slow, 
 The farmer boy at first did go. 
 Upon his right thick timber grew 
 On hills which hid the westward view, 
 And on his left was level ground 
 Where traces of the chase were found. 
 Beyond that open valley stood 
 The eastward hills, all clad in wood. 
 
 He rode alert for any sound 
 Of hunter's horn or baying hound; 
 Nor did he listen long for these, 
 For faintly borne upon the breeze, 
 From eastward, seeming far away. 
 There came the first returning bay; 
 Another quickly joined the first. 
 And many voices in a burst 
 23 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 Of music, and the sounding horn 
 
 Were soon from out the distance borne. 
 
 The while the chase was drawing near, 
 
 From bass to tenor he could hear; 
 
 He guessed the place where they would cross, 
 
 And to it swiftly rode the horse. 
 
 He had no more than reached the place 
 When Reynard ran with easy grace 
 Across the open where he stood 
 And vanished in the western wood. 
 From out the woods the dogs appeared. 
 With easy bound the fences cleared; 
 Across the field in line did run, 
 And vanished toward the setting sun. 
 Behind the dogs with shout and blast 
 Of horn the hunters followed fast ; 
 Then up the hill with steady pace. 
 The horses followed up the chase. 
 
 They gained the summit and did rest 
 A moment on the airy crest, 
 Expecting that the cunning game 
 Would soon return the way it came, 
 While swiftly toward the valley went 
 The dogs, attentive to the scent, 
 
 24 
 
The Farmer Boy 
 
 And though they shortly reached the vale, 
 
 They still pursued the westward trail. 
 
 'Twas plain that Reynard had not turned. 
 
 And from the fact the hunters learned 
 
 That it was running for a den 
 
 To westward somewhere, and the men 
 
 Consulted, but they did not know 
 
 Just whereabouts the fox would go; 
 
 They all decided to employ 
 
 The knowledge of the farmer boy. 
 
 "I think," said he, "it means to go 
 
 To Pine Hill, west six miles or so." 
 
 That he was right they all agreed; 
 
 And also thought that he should lead. 
 
 So swiftly west the horses sped 
 And soon the farmer boy had led 
 The men to Pine Hill, where they stood 
 And viewed the valley, field and wood. 
 And heard the swift approaching chase ; 
 'Twould reach them in a little space 
 Of time ; the dogs were running fast. 
 The chase was close and could not last. 
 
 The baying hounds soon reached the hill, 
 When suddenly they all were still, 
 
 25 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 The cunning fox had reached its den ; 
 They might have dug it out, but then 
 The sun was setting. They would give 
 The fox its freedom, let it live ; 
 For they had had a merry chase, 
 So happily they left the place. 
 
 The farmer boy moved slow behind, 
 For still he had within his mind 
 The youthful passion in his breast; 
 It would not cool and would not rest. 
 Although she did not answer "y^s," 
 She said her "no" with a caress; 
 And was it kindness in her heart 
 That caused such gentle, girlish art 
 To form her answer? Did she fear 
 His hatred for one held so dear? 
 Or was it possible that she 
 Had loved him, loved him secretly, 
 And feared to let that love be known 
 Because she dared not trust his own? 
 He hoped, he feared, and slowly rode 
 Unto the place of his abode. 
 
 26 
 
The Farmer Boy 
 
 PART THIRD 
 
 Another year, and Summer past, 
 Again, fair Autumn came at last, 
 And brought a cloak that did appear 
 Adapted to the aged Year. 
 The Frost King with his magic hand, 
 Had trimmed the dress and made it grand 
 With oaks of purple, red and green. 
 With maples red and yellow sheen; 
 With birch and poplar leaves that fade 
 Into a creamy, yellow shade. 
 When touched by his destroying breath, 
 And look their loveliest in death; 
 With many-tinted forest trees, 
 With corn stalks rustling in the breeze. 
 With yellow fruit and golden corn. 
 And in the bracing Autumn morn 
 The gown was beautiful and bright; 
 And was the aged Year's delight. 
 Though then the Year was very fair, 
 There seemed a sadness in the air. 
 27 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 'Twas morn, remaining in her room 
 
 And feeling there a partial gloom 
 
 Of mind, the farmer's daughter saw 
 
 Afar the village of Breslau, 
 
 To southward, and the houses there 
 
 Were nestling in the valley fair. 
 
 Their window panes revealed the gleam 
 
 Of morning sun before its beam 
 
 Could reach her o'er the eastward hill. 
 
 She sat there meditating till 
 
 Her mother brought some news to cheer 
 
 Her heart. Said she : "Your cousin's here ; 
 
 Though unexpectedly she came 
 
 She's very welcome, just the same." 
 
 Our heroine made haste to greet 
 Her cousin. It was quite a treat 
 To have a youthful friend to stay 
 And help to pass the time away. 
 That afternoon the happy pair 
 Did stroll into the swamp, and there 
 They picked the grapes that thickly clung 
 Unto the vines which ran among 
 The trees and bushes. They were sweet 
 And luscious and the girls did eat, 
 And heard the mournful Autumn song 
 Of robin floating light along, 
 28 
 
The Farmer Boy 
 
 And saw the squirrels run about 
 And pick the choicest acorns out, 
 For food when dreary Winter's snow 
 Should round their home nest fiercely blow ; 
 Saw wild geese southward journeying 
 Upon their nearly tireless wing. 
 (With clamor high they ever show 
 A letter as they onward go.) 
 
 The ev'ning came and brought its gloom, 
 But cheer was in the farmer's home. 
 The neighbor, with his wife and boy, 
 Had come to share the ev'ning's joy. 
 
 The homemade candles, in a row 
 Upon a mantel, sent a glow 
 About the room, and by their light 
 We note the things that met the sight: 
 Board ceiling, rough, with open seams, 
 On hand hewn, whitewashed, oaken beams ; 
 The stone built fireplace, long and wide, 
 The iron trummels hung inside; 
 Some logs on andirons were laid, 
 (The ev'ning fire had not been made) ; 
 The table held some apples, fine 
 Sweet cider, grapes, fresh from the vine, 
 29 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 Tobacco, nuts, milk, cake and each 
 Thus placed within the housewife's reach ; 
 The half-door, spinning wheel and loom. 
 The steps that led up from the room. 
 
 Unto the fireplace went the sire 
 
 To start the lovely, open fire; 
 
 The blaze was shortly leaping high, 
 
 And sparks were soaring toward the sky. 
 
 It threw a gay and dizzy light, 
 
 About it moved with happy flight 
 
 The shadows, dancing here and there, 
 
 So queer, so flitty and so fair; 
 
 And there was warmth and joy and mirth, 
 
 The sweetest pleasures of the earth. 
 
 The sires and matrons chatted, told 
 The latest news ; told stories bold, 
 Of actions brave in martial host. 
 Or ventures with suspected ghost, 
 Of what the witches often did, 
 And where the pirates' gold was hid. 
 
 The farmer then a story told 
 About a Winter, long and cold: 
 How his forefather from abroad 
 Had journeyed here to worship God 
 
 30 
 
The Farmer Boy 
 
 In his own way and in a land 
 Afar from any tyrant's hand ; 
 And built a house so near the shore 
 That he could hear the breakers' roar, 
 And forest tall, with song and sigh. 
 Reply unto their sad'ning cry ; 
 And lived together with his wife, 
 Who helped to smooth his path through life. 
 They trusted God and much endured. 
 And through their faith they were assured 
 The land their pilgrim feet had pressed 
 Unto their children would be blessed. 
 
 Within another room the boys 
 
 And girls partook of youthful joys ; 
 
 With mirth and music flowing free, 
 
 A gentle tide of jollity. 
 
 A negro fiddler who had been 
 
 The young folks' friend through thick and thin ; 
 
 Whose fiddle was his constant friend. 
 
 Did love such parties to attend, 
 
 And play for song and play for dance, 
 
 And get some money, too, perchance. 
 
 He'd either stand erect and tall. 
 
 Or sit and lean against the wall ; 
 
 His face would show each changing theme 
 
 In all the music's joyful stream; 
 
 3X 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 Expressions o'er his face would float 
 In sympathy with ev'ry note ; 
 His eyes would gleam with joy or pain, 
 lAccording to the music's strain. 
 
 The farmer's daughter entertained 
 The neighbor's son, and though she feigned 
 Enjoyment, yet her thoughts would turn 
 To him, for whom her heart did yearn — 
 The farmer boy — if only he 
 Were then beside her, swift would flee 
 The golden-winged hours of joy 
 O'er her, beside the farmer boy. 
 And oft in game and oft in dance 
 Her eyes did meet his sparkling ghance; 
 The meeting of their eyes did prove 
 The presence of an ardent love. 
 For there is known, no cunning art 
 To hide the secrets of the heart; 
 For love will live within the eye, 
 Those soul reflectors never lie. 
 They saw it and they understood 
 And tried to hide it, but the blood 
 Approached their cheeks with startled rush 
 And caused the flitting lover's blush. 
 Which says in language ever sure : 
 "The soul is modest, warm and pure." 
 32 
 
The Farmer Boy 
 
 The merry ev'ning soon was past, 
 The parting time had come at last; 
 And while the fiddler played his best. 
 They sang a song, then went to rest. 
 
 ^ 5|C ^ 5|C 3|J 
 
 Beautiful Autumn, the pride of the year. 
 Cheerful and brilliant, tho' sombre and drear. 
 All of thy harvests, too great to be told. 
 Circle about thee, a mantle of gold. 
 
 Softly thou sayest, o'er hill and o'er dale, 
 "Winter is coming with ice and with gale." 
 Trees take the warning and form a leaf bed 
 Over their roots, shielding them from his tread. 
 Autumn ! we thank thee for nuts from the wood, 
 Thank thee for harvests so rich and so good, 
 Thank thee for fruit that is luscious and fair. 
 Thank thee for all of thy benefits rare. 
 
 The farmer thought 'twould help him some 
 To have the youths and maidens come 
 And husk his corn. He planned it out 
 And told the people all about. 
 The time soon came, a moonlit night; 
 The buskers had enough of light 
 From lanterns hanging on the beams 
 And sending out their feeble gleams. 
 33 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 A long board table had been made, 
 On which the corn was thickly laid. 
 Then each about it took his place, 
 And soon began the husking race.. 
 
 The fiddler, who, of course, was there. 
 Made musical the ev'ning air; 
 The cider jug was passed around 
 And time flew by yet no one found 
 A red ear. While they husked along 
 They sang a simple husking song. 
 
 Husk the corn with blithesome song, 
 Husk it merrily along'. 
 Hurry, lads, and find an ear. 
 Red, for her you love most dear. 
 
 Mary's found an ear that's red. 
 You must Und one quickly, Ned, 
 Or some other lad will kiss 
 Her, and rob you of the bliss. 
 
 Very happy huskers, we. 
 Gathered in this husking bee; 
 Age will bring enough of tears, 
 Blithe we'll pass the youthful years, 
 34 
 
The Farmer Boy 
 
 Huskers, hasten, husk the corn. 
 E'er the evning-tiine is gone. 
 Love will make the fingers ily. 
 Find a red ear, huskers, try. 
 
 At length the farmer's daughter found 
 A red ear, and the news went round, 
 Then who would have the pleasure rare 
 Of kissing cheek so blushing fair? 
 The youths tried hard to find an ear 
 To match the one they held so dear ; 
 The farmer boy soon husked one out, 
 And there arose a mighty shout. 
 He had a rival, though, for one 
 Was gotten by the neighbor's son. 
 
 The boys blushed deeply, neither moved 
 To kiss the girl, for 'twas not proved 
 Exactly which had found the first, 
 Then all of them with merry burst 
 Of laughter placed the lovely lass 
 Upon the table and did pass 
 Around her, shouting: "Look, and see 
 The queen of all the husking bee." 
 
 The corn was husked, and was begun 
 The dance to close the ev'ning's fun; 
 
 35 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 The fiddler, who had interviewed 
 
 The cider jug, again renewed 
 
 The music in a merry way, 
 
 To please the youthful dancers gay. 
 
 Thus happily the eve did end 
 
 And to their homes they all did wend. 
 
 Through all the night the neighbor's son 
 Thought sleepless of that fairest one. 
 Whom he had loved too well to kiss 
 Before the crowd; oh, what a bliss 
 'Twould be to clasp her in his arms 
 And glory in those matchless charms; 
 To gaze in her responsive eye; 
 To kiss her cheek, aye, he would fly 
 On wings of love unto her side 
 Could he but claim her for his bride. 
 
 The next day Nature flung abroad 
 Her cloudy curtain ; fiercely poured 
 The rain ; the howling of the gale 
 Was mournful in the narrow vale. 
 
 The farm work ceased ; the neighbor's son 
 Before the dreary day was done. 
 Did call upon his loved one. She 
 Received him very charmingly. 
 
 36 
 
The Farmer Boy 
 
 Their conversation went along; 
 
 He oft would speak his heart; but strong 
 
 And ardent feeling made him fail ; 
 
 His cheek first flushed, then very pale, 
 
 His nervous and his bashful air 
 
 Did plainly to the girl declare 
 
 The struggle raging in his breast, 
 
 And she did plan her very best 
 
 To guide the pleasant talk away 
 
 From that which he desired to say. 
 
 But all her tact could not prevail. 
 
 He passionately told his tale. 
 
 Said he : "I called on you to-day 
 
 Not only my respects to pay, 
 
 I came to tell you all my heart. 
 
 I have no eloquence, nor art, 
 
 I only say that you have all 
 
 My love, my life within your thrall. 
 
 My thoughts, my dreams are all of thee. 
 
 Will you not give yourself to me? 
 
 I love you dearer than my life; 
 
 Oh, say that you will be my wife." 
 
 The timid maiden hung her head. 
 Then lifted it and softly said: 
 37 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 "My friend, I'd ever call you such — 
 My parents, both, admire you much; 
 I would not cause you pain, but know 
 A friend betimes must strike a blow; 
 And I admire you greatly, too, 
 But do not love you. Surely you 
 Can overcome this passion strong, 
 And love another girl ere long; 
 And one who'll give you in return 
 Her own heart's love. I could not earn 
 The honor you have given me; 
 I thank you for it heartily/* 
 
 38 
 
The Farmer Boy 
 
 PART FOURTH 
 
 The seasons flew, and Earth was seen 
 Again in dress of lovely green; 
 The light and shifting summer breeze 
 Oft whispered in the leafy trees, 
 Then, 'mid the fruit, the farmer boy 
 Did very much of time employ 
 In picking peaches, picking pears 
 And lessening the household cares. 
 In other ways, he loved to aid 
 The farmer's daughter, and the maid 
 Was pleased to have him near her. They 
 Were oft together all the day. 
 The love they both had felt became 
 A warm and ever glowing flame. 
 
 The housewife recognized that they 
 Were far too happy all the day 
 Together ; and were much too glad, 
 When private duty could be had, 
 To be together, for the tie 
 Of friendship only; and her eye 
 
 39 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 Oft marked them working blissfully; 
 
 Or marked her, 'neath the cherry tree, 
 
 Pick cherries from a lower limb 
 
 And talk unceasingly with him ; . 
 
 And thought the two had often done 
 
 Less work than might have been by one. 
 
 It was not long the farmer boy 
 
 Could her companionship enjoy; 
 
 The time for harvest came apace, 
 
 When he must work, and see her face 
 
 At mealtime only, and her fair 
 
 Young cousin from afar was there 
 
 Again with her. The neighbor's son 
 
 Was often with that lovely one ; 
 
 And that did please the farmer boy, 
 
 For he would wish him ev'ry joy 
 
 With any girl, if only he 
 
 Would leave the farmer's daughter free. 
 
 On one fair morn the neighbor's son 
 
 Went driving with his chosen one. 
 
 Alone the farmer's daughter took 
 
 Her way along the little brook, 
 
 Which from the swamp, pursued its course 
 
 Along the roadside. Cow and horse 
 
 Drank regularly at its side; 
 
 It was the farmer's constant pride. 
 
 She picked some violets that grew 
 
 40 
 
The Farmer Boy 
 
 Beside the brook; their gentle hue, 
 So modest and so tender, made 
 Them beautiful to her. She strayed 
 Along, determining to go 
 Unto the spring from which did flow 
 The stream. The chirping squirrel sat 
 Upon the fence and, looking at 
 Her, sang its piercing little song, 
 To cheer the lazy hours along. 
 A catbird on a cherry tree 
 Did trill its pretty minstrelsy. 
 It knew that it could sing more sweet 
 Than any bird that she would meet. 
 Save thrush and robin, and in pride 
 It held its little head one side. 
 If any person troubled it 
 While singing, it would simply sit 
 And cry out : "You won't let me chant, 
 Because you know that you can't, can't !" 
 She walked along the brook, until 
 It led her up a little hill 
 And to the swamp, where ev'ry tree 
 Was filled with song birds fair to see. 
 Their songs uniting in the air 
 Made mingled music past compare. 
 Gray squirrels scampered overhead. 
 And forest flow'rs about her shed 
 41 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 Their fragrance. Soon she reached the spring 
 
 In jumped a frog, the queer, green thing 
 
 Swam straight across and viewed from there 
 
 Her face, as if it loved the fair ; 
 
 She knelt beside the little spring 
 
 And listened to its murmuring; 
 
 Her face reflected in its wave 
 
 And sunbeams quiv'ring in it gave 
 
 A fantasy, and made it seem 
 
 Like timid fancy's mimic dream. 
 
 She touched her lips unto its wave 
 
 And felt the cooling thrill it gave ; 
 
 And then she saw 'twas near midday, 
 
 And started on her homeward way. 
 
 The maid walked homeward, slowly, till 
 She reached the walnut by the rill. 
 Beneath that spreading tree she found 
 The farmer boy upon the ground 
 Asleep. He sought that place to shun 
 The power of the noonday sun. 
 Unto his side she softly moved, 
 And placed upon the breast she loved 
 Her bunch of violets. He woke 
 Before she could retreat and spoke 
 To her. When she did turn 
 Toward him he saw the crimson burn 
 
 42 
 
The Farmer Boy 
 
 Upon her cheek, but knew not why. 
 
 His rapid, searching glance did fly 
 
 About until upon his breast 
 
 He saw the modest flowers rest. 
 
 "I'm glad you didn't get away. 
 
 And many thanks for this bouquet ; 
 
 It cheers me very much," said he, 
 
 "To know that someone thinks of me." 
 
 He ne'er before had seemed so fair 
 
 To her. His curly, flaxen hair. 
 
 His thoughtful eyes of clearest blue, 
 
 Which seemed to say his heart was true, 
 
 And in whose depths there ever shone 
 
 Not any thought of his alone ; 
 
 But hope and fear and joy and grief 
 
 And faith and trust and unbelief 
 
 Did pass and repass in their flight 
 
 Across the azure liquid light 
 
 And it was sweet to see his eyes, 
 
 When expectation or surprise 
 
 Was mirrored in them, and his face 
 
 Was honest and without a trace 
 
 Of evil passions, and so clear 
 
 That any babe would banish fear 
 
 When it beheld the virtue rest 
 
 Upon that face with beauty blest. 
 
 43 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 No hardened look of secret sin, 
 To show a hardened heart within, 
 Nor wrinkled by the hand of care. 
 Nor withered by a cold despair. 
 His form was stately, tall and bold, 
 And of a strong, athletic mold. 
 If great Adonis walked the earth. 
 He lost his glory at the birth 
 Of this fair boy, whose beauty bright 
 Was not attained by human right. 
 But was obtained as a reward 
 For favor shown unto a God. 
 
 It may have been that from above 
 Fair Venus longed for one to love. 
 As none of earth did beauty hold 
 To keep her love from growing cold. 
 Or did Apollo, on his throne, 
 Get tired of reigning all alone. 
 And send a lovely one below 
 To represent his beauty's show? 
 
 She realized his beauty then. 
 And loved him more than ever when 
 He thanked her for the flowers she 
 Had given him. But then, said he, 
 "Tis time for me to leave you now," 
 And left her with a pleasant bow. 
 44 
 
The Farmer Boy 
 
 That afternoon the girls did climb 
 
 Mt. Jayne, and there a sight sublime 
 
 Met their admiring gaze. Away 
 
 To southward was the great South Bay, 
 
 A small and placid plain of blue, 
 
 O'er which the shadows swiftly flew. 
 
 With here and there a fisher's sail, 
 
 Or clammer's sharpie. O'er it soared 
 
 The sea gulls and the ocean roared 
 
 Against the great south beach, which hides 
 
 The bay from all the ocean's tides. 
 
 The little hills of whited sand 
 
 Were brilliant in the sunlight. Grand 
 
 Was ocean's beauty and extent. 
 
 To where the azure sky-dome bent 
 
 And kissed it, and the shadows made 
 
 In spots a somewhat darker shade 
 
 Of green upon it, and a ship 
 
 So near the finish of its trip. 
 
 Was stretching all its mighty sail 
 
 To catch the favorable gale, 
 
 Like wing worn sea bird seeking rest, 
 
 And flying swiftly to its nest. 
 
 To eastward were Long Island's hills, 
 Her woods and meadows, farms and rills, 
 
 45 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 To Montauk point ; and eastward, then 
 For miles was lonely sea again. 
 
 To northward was Long Island Sound, 
 Connecticut's slow rising ground, 
 And ridge of hills, all forest browed. 
 That no more northward view allowed. 
 They looked northeastward and they saw 
 The ocean and the beach once more. 
 And saw Rhode Island hide from harm 
 'Neath Massachusetts' southeast arm. 
 It seemed she'd fear old Ocean's wave 
 Were not that arm stretched out to save. 
 The girls conversed a time; at last 
 The cousin said : "My dear, you passed 
 The time alone this morning; let 
 Me tell you something that as yet 
 I think you do not dream of. Please 
 Let me but tell you this, nor tease 
 Me, I have loved the handsome youth 
 Who took me driving, and the truth 
 Is, dear, I promised, on our ride. 
 That I would soon become his bride." 
 "My dear," our heroine returned, 
 *T'm very glad that I have learned 
 This, for he's such a noble boy 
 Your life will overflow with joy." 
 46 
 
The Farmer Boy 
 
 'Twas ev'ning. 'Neath the walnut tree 
 Were two young lovers ; they were she, 
 The farmer's daughter, and the lad 
 Whom she had once made very sad. 
 Some fairies in the peach trees hid. 
 Talked loudly of what Katie did. 
 She leaned her head against his breast: 
 He kissed her and — you know the rest. 
 
 47 
 
The Soul of Music 
 
 To Miss Minnie Schenck, Pianiste. 
 
 There is a soul in Music, for it lives 
 
 And speaks to men through melody of sound ; 
 Its form of harmony a halo gives, 
 
 Which doth illuminate its thought profound. 
 
 The life's not hid by flesh, nor bound by space. 
 For souls converse by action, eye and tongue, 
 
 By each expression flitting o'er the face, 
 By all the notes of ev'ry song that's sung. 
 
 The robin speaks the purest language known, 
 Each note a thought, each song describes the 
 bird. 
 
 We know its color by the feathers shown ; 
 We know its spirit when its song is heard. 
 
 The harp, piano and the violin 
 
 May reproduce the player's mind and heart; 
 He sounds their chords ; his soul is found within 
 
 The note; it mingles with his art. 
 
 48 
 
The Soul of Music 
 
 Some angel visits the composer's brain 
 And sings a melody in one sweet hour; 
 
 Performers then take up th' enchanting strain, 
 Till all the world has felt its magic pow'r. 
 
 Dear Music, ever point to realms above, 
 And lead to joys that lie beyond our tears. 
 
 Thy soul, O Music, is the soul of love. 
 The one all-soul of everlasting years. 
 
 49 
 
Broken Strings 
 
 An infant took a harp that hung 
 
 Within the hall of time, 
 And struck its mystic chords, which rung 
 
 With melody sublime. 
 
 At first, its chords were few and cheered 
 
 The player by their mirth, 
 But soon within its tone appeared 
 
 Some sad'ning from the earth. 
 
 The years brought other strings and they 
 
 Enthralled the harper's heart. 
 For with each new string he did play, 
 
 With more endearing art. 
 
 But soon an unseen finger broke 
 The string that sweetest rang; 
 
 The player's heart received the stroke, 
 And felt a deathless pang. 
 
 50 
 
Broken Strings 
 
 The other string seemed sweeter then, 
 
 And tenderer the strain, 
 But that strange hand came oft again 
 
 Till few of them remain. 
 
 But those which still join in the lay- 
 Are beautiful as morn; 
 
 Sweet, soft and sad, they seem to say: 
 "The dearest are not gone." 
 
 So those few strings the more enthrall 
 
 The heart and this is why: 
 That hand unseen is fatting all 
 
 For music by and by. 
 
 5t 
 
The Philosophy of the Muse 
 
 Far greater than was Atlas, is the Muse. 
 
 She holdeth not the earth alone in air, 
 But all the countless worlds, dispersed profuse 
 
 About the azure dome men call most fair, 
 Are by the Muse held in their places there. 
 
 Or gently, strongly furthered on their way. 
 God gives the worlds into the Muse's care; 
 
 They're all the Muse's children. Day by day 
 
 She teaches them their duty, and they all obey. 
 
 The Muse is in the breeze and in the gale : 
 
 She rolls the ocean, gently laps the lakes; 
 She rends the canvas, softly fills the sail. 
 
 Uproots the forest and the aspen shakes. 
 She swings the scythe, the golden sheaf she 
 makes. 
 
 And ripples in the little running brook; 
 Establishes belief in facts, or fakes ; 
 
 She teaches, studies, writes a charming book. 
 
 She fills the world. The Muse is ev'rywhere 
 we look. 
 
 52 
 
The Philosophy of the Muse 
 
 The birds converse in music and in rhyme, 
 The trees all wave in concert, singing low. 
 
 Old ocean's billows roll in measured time. 
 And melody rides on the winds that blow. 
 
 The stars all move in metre, as they go 
 Along their course, and shine a poem each. 
 
 "A poem ev'ry flower is," they show 
 Unto the sight an epic grand, and teach 
 That God is in all, through all, striving all to 
 reach. 
 
 53 
 
Nature's Song 
 
 Inscribed to Miss Addie Hendrickson 
 
 When I hear the breezes creeping 
 Through the treetops 'tis to me, 
 
 Angel whispers ever keeping 
 Nature sweet with melody. 
 
 When I hear the wavelets springing 
 Up along the whitened sand, 
 
 Then I seem to hear them singing, 
 Metred praises rich and grand. 
 
 When the pretty wild bird singers 
 Send abroad their wond'rous notes. 
 
 Then I wonder how God's fingers 
 Place such music in their throats. 
 
 Sorrow shades life's path of duty. 
 But earth recompenses wrong, 
 
 By the grandeur of its beauty, 
 And the sweetness of its song, 
 54 
 
Nature's Song 
 
 Glowing sunsets, blooming flowers, 
 Autumn forests tinted bright, 
 
 Voices from the verdant bowers 
 Charm the senses to delight. 
 
 Jubal, in the magic sweetness 
 Of thy great invented note. 
 
 Thou hast copied the completeness 
 Of the chords in Nature's throat. 
 
 Music, teach me to be purer, 
 Speak to me of love and light, 
 
 Help my faith to rest the surer, 
 Be a beacon through the night. 
 
 LofC. 
 
 55 
 
The Robin's Song 
 
 The Springtime is come and the orchards 
 Are full of sweet voices and gay; 
 
 I hear them from morning till even, 
 I listen with joy all the day. 
 
 To hear the blithe robin, I linger 
 And list in the gray of the morn; 
 
 O, how I will miss the sweet singer 
 When, some day, its music is gone. 
 
 What song is more simple and loving, 
 Or more overfloweth with praise, 
 
 Or soundeth more sweet in the morning 
 Than that which the robin doth raise ? 
 
 56 
 
The Forward Cry of Social Evolution 
 
 To Eugene V. Debs. 
 
 "Advance! Advance!" the voice of ages cries. 
 
 "Broad future lies before us unexplored. 
 Advance forever !" thunders from the skies. 
 
 Though past misdeeds full deeply are deplored, 
 Ne'er swerve, ne'er faint, press ever onward, 
 toward 
 The brighter vista just within our view. 
 Through mountains we must climb and rivers 
 ford, 
 Yet look not backward, struggle for the new. 
 And we shall win at length because our hearts 
 are true. 
 
 "Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, where are 
 they?" 
 Byzantium, Venice and Phoenicia, where ? 
 And Egypt, Spain, the Ottoman obey 
 
 The law of time, for they must pass, and there 
 Will be but relics, that the world may stare 
 At that which was and never shall be more. 
 Napoleon, Charlemagne, Charles of Sweden, 
 bare 
 
 57 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 Remembrance speaks of wondrous feats of 
 war. 
 
 They rose through blood, and drowned them- 
 selves in seas of gore. 
 
 "Time sealed the fate of empires and of kings; 
 
 He freed the vassal from the landed lord. 
 Time cut the chain, and it no longer clings 
 
 About the black man. Though the sharpened 
 sword 
 Has often been time's instrument the broad 
 
 And sober mind of man's a better tool. 
 Time, teach mankind to think first of their God, 
 
 Then of their fellow man, and do thou school 
 
 The laborer to study much, nor be a fool." 
 
 We chase no rainbows over fields of thought, 
 Although our bow hangs over us all bright 
 With promise. Great works have been wrought ; 
 But greater far shall be the deeds of might. 
 When from the darkness, mankind gains the 
 light 
 Of health and pleasure, honor, love and fame ; 
 When jealousy, dishonesty, the blight 
 Of war shall fade forever, and the name 
 Of God shall stand for goodness, unto all 
 the same. 
 
 58 
 
Life Ships 
 
 How sweet the day when o'er the youthful mind 
 
 Float dreamily the thoughts of future years ! 
 How sad to lose those happy thoughts and find 
 
 That life is not as it to youth appears 
 When o'er our path float shadow-cares and fears, 
 
 And eyes which looked for pleasure and delight 
 See many sorrows through their flowing tears ! 
 
 If they had seen the shades of manhood's 
 night, 
 
 Their sweet young joys would all have fled 
 from such a sight. 
 
 Then let us praise the Providence that hides 
 
 Away from youth the sorrow and the pain; 
 Which ride on time's forever flowing tides, 
 
 That roar and groan along the rocky main, 
 Near which our ships of life do ever strain 
 
 'Gainst adverse winds to beat their weary way 
 Unto the port they ever hope to gain; 
 
 And trust that soon will dawn the morning 
 gray, 
 
 Tha pale-faced herald of the coming happy day. 
 
 59 
 
, Songs From Nature 
 
 O, happy thought, we may not always sail 
 
 O'er seas wind lashed and decked with stormy 
 foam, 
 For these life ships were built to breast the gale, 
 And 'neath the clouds betimes to strangely 
 roam. 
 E'er brilliantly, from out the central dome 
 
 Of heaven breaks the splendor of the face 
 Of Him who built us and will guide us Home; 
 And then before the free wind of His grace 
 We'll wend our pleasant way to our eternal 
 place. 
 
 60 
 
In Memory of Little Frankie 
 
 Thou wert a winsome child, O vanished one ! 
 
 The midday glory mirrored in thy face. 
 Thy cheeks were tinted by the ev'ning sun, 
 
 Thine eyes were taken from a heavenly place. 
 Thou wert so fair and hadst ev'ry grace 
 
 Which could be thine on earth, where thou didst 
 stay 
 Until the end of thy soon finished race. 
 
 And thou wert taken from our lives away — 
 
 Too pure and sweet for earth — to live in end- 
 less day. 
 
 And Thou didst clap thy hands when first thine 
 eye 
 Was fixed upon dear nature's beauty rare; 
 Thine eyes did sparkle, and thy lips did cry 
 
 In broken accents to the summer air 
 Which kissed thy cheek and tossed thy curly hair. 
 Thou laughed when lambs ran happily around. 
 And thou didst see that nature was most fair. 
 Thyself was pictured in the flow'r-decked 
 
 ground. 
 For thou didst never weep, and smiles were all 
 around. 
 
 6t 
 
The Leaves of Life 
 
 The fruitful tree draws strength from many 
 leaves, 
 
 The golden fruits of freedom, truth and love. 
 From many human lives their growth receive. 
 
 And each is rightly placed by God above. 
 
 From whence are we, and whither shall we go. 
 And why placed thus? But faith and time 
 can tell. 
 
 We have a duty, whether weal or woe 
 Be with us, let us do it well. 
 
 €1 
 
Farewell Lines to a Young Friend 
 
 Keep before thy constant thought. 
 Time is fleeting, Hfe is short; 
 When thou canst, do thou improve 
 All the moments as they move. 
 
 Wealth is but a firefly glow, 
 Fashion but a trifling show; 
 Sin betimes a moment cheers. 
 But it doth react in tears. 
 Knowledge garnishes the soul, 
 Wisdom glorifies the whole. 
 
 Be thou wise unto the end, 
 That thou cling to ev'ry friend. 
 For a friend will never lead 
 Thee to any wrongful deed. 
 
 Character will live for aye; 
 Build it then with care each day, 
 Found the building of thy youth 
 On the solid rock of truth. 
 Richest talents in thy hand, 
 Thou canst make the structure grand. 
 63 
 
Songs From Nature 
 
 Talents are high heaven's gift 
 Unto thee, that thou may'st Hft 
 Mankind higher. Nourish thou 
 Good acquaintanceships ; allow 
 No bad company to mar 
 Thy soul building. Keep afar 
 Evil passions ; trust not love. 
 Till it's tested from above. 
 
 Fare thee well, press toward thy goal ; 
 Soul is all, and all is soul. 
 
 64 
 
Baby's Good-Night 
 
 Won't you come and kiss me, mother. 
 Won't you come and kiss me, now ? 
 For I've said my little, "lay me down to sleep." 
 I must be up early, mother, 
 While the dew is on the brow 
 Of the hill, and day has just begun to peep. 
 
 I am weary now of waking; 
 
 For I've been out all the day, 
 Catching leaves that softly fell from off the trees, 
 And have helped the men hay-making 
 
 In the meadow sweet and gay. 
 Won't you come and kiss me, now, dear mother, 
 
 please ? 
 
 THE END. 
 
 65 
 
MAY 25 190 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 015 937 346 #^