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 LIBRARY 
 
 SANDIEOa
 
 Sun Prints in Sky Tints 
 
 ORIGINAL DESIGNS WITH APPROPRIATE SELECTIONS 
 
 BY 
 
 IRENE E. JEROME 
 
 BOSTON 
 LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS 
 
 1 o M 1 1, K Street 
 i«93
 
 FOR THEIR COURTESY IN ALLOWING THE USE OF COPYRIGHT MATERIAL, 
 GRATEFUL ACKNOWLEDGMENTS ARE MADE TO MESSRS. HOUGHTON, 
 MIFFLIN, & COMPANY, ROBERTS BROTHERS, HARPER AND BROTHERS, 
 The CENTURY COMPANY, AND TO THE AUTHORS WHOSE POEMS HAVE 
 BEEN USED IN THIS VOLUME. 
 
 Copyright, 1892, by Lee and Sheparij 
 
 All rights reserved 
 Sun Prints in Sky Tints 
 
 PRESS OF 
 
 Kothbicll anO Churchill 
 
 BOSTON
 
 THESE OUT-DOOR SKETCHES 
 are dedicated to 
 
 HHRRIET S. ROWLEY 
 KHTE B. SWHN 
 MABEL E. DflYIS 
 ALICE LEE 
 
 friends in glad succession thjroUgli nqy girll^iood years 
 
 YJitY\ wtioiTi I l^ave enjoyed 
 
 MHNY HflPPY HOURS UNDER THE OPEN SKY
 
 M^l\ile tlr\e title of t]:)is illustrated volUnQe is, 
 tect^nically speaKing. incorrect, yet during a recent 
 surnrrier spent anqong our nortt^ern lakes, tl:\e artist 
 and nqany friends at a distance found so rr\\lcY] 
 delig]:)t in tl^e BLUE PRINT so easily produced 
 by tl^e pliotograpl^er, tl^at s]\e ]\as endeavored 
 in lier sKetcl:|es to give an irnp^ession or sug- 
 gestion of tiqe sarr\e, as n^cirly as possible, by ttie 
 printer's art.
 
 Conqe — ol:\, corr\e I for you ar\d nqe 
 flll t]:\ese siirT\rr\er rr\orr|irigs be; 
 Conqe — ol^, corr\e I for rr\e arid you 
 Eact) soft evening drops its dev\^ ; 
 Morn and noon and sunset's glow 
 Made for you and n\e, you Know I ' 
 
 C. F. Brlggs. 
 
 (9)
 
 SPRING 
 
 fls little cl\ildren gatl^er round tl)eir iTiotl\er, 
 Hrid beg l)er a fanqiliar tale to tell, — 
 
 One tl\at is dearer far tl\an any otl\er, 
 Because so often l^eard and Known so well: 
 
 And as tl^ey watch) l^er, prornpting sliould sY\e falter, 
 
 And any variation qUicKly see, 
 And cry, " Don't tell it so, don't chiange and alter. 
 
 We want it just tl)e Way it Used to be," — 
 
 So do We corqe to tl]ee, Nature — Motlier, 
 And never tire of listening ^o tl^y tales. 
 
 Tell Us tl^y spring-tinqe story now, — no otl|er, — 
 Tliat l|atl^ a wondrous clnarrn, wl)icli never fails. 
 
 Tell it witl| all tt|e old-tirqe strength} and glory. 
 Fill it Witl) rnany a liappy song and sl^out: 
 
 Don't rqiss one bird or blossorq in ^h^ story. 
 Don't leave one daffodil or daisy out. 
 
 Tell Us eacli sliade in all tl)e trees' soft greening, 
 Don't skip one blade of grass, one bee, one wren,— 
 Each) little tiding l]as grown so full of rneanina. / 
 . In thje dear story We would l^ear again. 
 
 Mothier Nature! ttiou art old and l^oary, ^^ 
 
 And wonderful and strange tilings tl]ou canst tell ; 
 
 But we, like little cliildren, love tl|e spring-tinqe story 
 And tl]ink it best, because we know it well. 
 
 BrssIb ChandlBr 
 
 \'> 
 
 ( II )
 
 THE CITY IN THE SPRING 
 
 " It is not rTjLicI) tl)at iriaKes nqe glad ; 
 I I\old rr\ore tl^an I ever I|ad. 
 TI\e enqpty l^arid nqay fartl\er reaci), 
 Rr\d srriall, sweet signs all beauty teacti. 
 
 " I like tl)G city in tl\e spring, 
 It i\as a l)int of everytl)ing. 
 Down in tl)e yard I like to see 
 Ti^e budding of tlr\at single tree, 
 
 Tl)e little sparrows on tl\e sl^ed ; 
 Tl^e scrap of soft sky overl^ead ; 
 
 Ti\e cat Upon tiie sunny "^aii ; 
 
 Tliere's so rnucli rneant anqong tlierq all. 
 
 " Tl^e dandelion in t^l© cleft 
 fl broken paverqent nqay I\ave left, 
 Is like tl|e star tl|at, still and sweet, 
 Sliines wt^ere tl|e t^ousetops alnqost nqeet. 
 
 !A 
 
 -^ 
 
 " I like a little ; all tl^e rest 
 Is sornewl)ere ; and our Lord knows best 
 How tt|e wl)ole robe I\atl| grace for tt^eni 
 WI|o only toucli tl\e garrqent's l^ern." 
 
 Si?. 
 
 Mrs, R. E. T. Whitney. 
 
 13 )
 
 THE SLEEPING FLOWERS 
 
 " Whose are t\\e little beds," I asKed, 
 
 " Wl|icl\ in tt\e Valleys lie?" 
 Sonqe sl^ooK tl)eir l^eads, arid otl^ers srqiled, 
 
 And x]0 one rnade reply. 
 
 "Perl^aps tl^ey did not i^ear," I said, 
 
 I will inqiiire again : 
 " Wl|ose are tl)e beds, tl:\e tiny beds, 
 
 So tl)icK Upon tl:\e plain?" 
 
 " 'Tis daisy in tl)e sl)ortest, 
 
 R little fartiier on, 
 Nearest tY\e door to waKe tl^e first 
 
 Little leontodon." 
 
 " 'Tis iris, sir, and aster 
 
 Anenqone and bell, 
 Batscl)ia in tl^e blanket red, 
 
 And cl^Ubby daffodil." 
 
 Meanwi^lile at nqany cradles 
 
 Her busy foot sl)e plied, 
 Hurnrqing tl^e quaintest lullaby 
 
 Tlqat ever rocked a cl\ild, 
 
 " HUslq ! Epigia waKens I 
 
 Tlqe crocus stirs l)er lids I 
 Rlqodora's ct\eeK is crirnson, — 
 
 Side's drearqing of tl|e woods " 
 
 Tlqen turning fi'orn tl\ern, reverent, 
 " Tl\eir bed-tinqe ''tis," si^e said ; 
 
 "Tlqe bUrnble-bees Will WaKe trienq, 
 Wl\en April woods are red" 
 
 Emily nickEnsDn. 
 (15)
 
 IN APRIL 
 
 W]\at are tY[e dearest treasures of tl^e spring ? 
 
 TI\e rosy l^aze tl\at veils tl^e forest bare ; 
 
 TJ:\e vague, sweet fragrance in tl^e balnqy air 
 TI)e twitter of tl\e swallows on tl^e wing ; 
 
 TI\e tender beauty of tl\e Wavering ligllt ; 
 
 Tlje rain as swift. as tears in babies' eyes; 
 
 Tl)e sudden sunsliine in tl^e cliangeful sKies 
 TI)e softened brigl\tness of tl|e starlit r\iqlc\t ; 
 
 :^''\^:^K^0 
 
 ■o^^ 
 
 TI|e fresl\ening ernerald of t\\e bladed grass; 
 
 TI)e sparkle of tY\e rnyriad-dinqpled sea ; 
 
 TY\e rusl\ of inountain brooks once nqore set free 
 TI|e sense of early bloonq so soon to pass, — 
 
 Tt^ese are rnost fair, but rnore tl^an tl^ese to nqe 
 
 Tl)e \v'akening rnernories of tlie vanisl^ed years, 
 
 Tender regrets grown dinq 'neatl) nqany tears, 
 Rr\d sorrows softened like a rainy sea ; 
 
 Swift recollections of forgotten bliss 
 
 Tlirilling tl)e I^eart witl) dreanqs of joy again. 
 fln ecstasy of pleasure sI\ot witl\ pain. 
 
 As when tl|e sunbearns and tl\e raindrops kiss; 
 
 Reluctant l^opes tY\at conqe like snowdrops Whiite, 
 Tf|e faint frail I|arbingers of l^appier days. 
 Filling tl\e ]\eart witl) treinulous anqaze 
 
 T\\at hiardly dares to call itself deligl|t, — 
 
 Tlqese are tlqe dearest treasures of tY\e spring ; 
 
 Tl\ese are tl)e flowers tY\e I\eart perceives nqore fair 
 
 Tl)an all I\er blossonqs born of sunny air". 
 Tlqan all I\er birds of briglqt and restless wing. 
 
 KatE Hillard, 
 
 (17)
 
 MORNING MEADOWS 
 
 i4««* 
 
 Tl^e dew is on tl^e grass, 
 
 Thje bee is iri tl^e clover; 
 TY\e rrierry bird, tt^e bobolirik, 
 
 He sings and liovers over, 
 
 Tlc\e nqowers s-wing and sway, 
 Tl:\ey sway and swing togeti^er, 
 
 Across tl^e nqeadoWs sl]irnrT|ering green, 
 In tl^e sweet silrnrr\er weatl:\er. 
 
 About tl-^e wooded I)ills 
 
 Tl^e nqorning rqists are clinging; 
 And in tl)e swatl^s tl^e rqowers pause 
 
 And set t]r\eir scytl^es a-ringing. 
 
 The dew is on tl-^e grass, 
 TI)e burnble-bees are I^urrirning- 
 
 Across tl\e fields, bobolink, 
 Tl^e swinging scytl)es are corning I 
 
 Beneathi tY\e blades and bloorqs. 
 Your quiet rqate still presses 
 
 Her sober breast against I)er nest, 
 In st\aded green recesses. 
 
 Cry out, bobolink, 
 
 Tl^ere's tY\at wl\icl) bodes disaster; 
 LaUgi^ out, jocund bobolink, 
 
 Tl)e scythies are swinging past l\er. 
 
 Tl\e dew is on tl)e grass, 
 
 TYie bees are in tl\e clover, 
 Tl^e rqerry bird, tl^ie bobolink. 
 
 He sings and I\overs over — 
 y/^ -^ Bobolink I 
 
 "'^^ E C. Mpsser. 
 
 .-> 
 
 7h 
 
 n / W/ 
 
 ( 19 )
 
 R GLIMPSE OF THE HIGHWHY 
 
 Only a bit of tl^e lr[iqY\v^ay surining itself on tY\e Y\i\\, 
 By it tY\e beailtifiil river, singing a song in tl:|e nqill ; 
 
 Only a bit of tl^e tiigl^Way, I see it as I sit by tl)e door, 
 
 find tl^e valley is pleasant bel^ind it, and tl)e valley is pleasant before 
 
 People corne out of tY\e valley, and into tt|e valley tt)ey go : 
 fl sl^adow dotl) ferry tlr[e river, under a piloting crow. 
 
 'Tis but a rnonqent I see tl:|ern: only a glirnpse I obtain; 
 
 Wh)at do I Know of tl)eir losses? Wt|at do tl^ey know of rny gain? 
 
 I Know tY\at tl)ey are bearing tl^eir burdens as I Know tlr^at I do inqine, 
 And I Know tt\at tl^ey l^ave tl\eir gladness, — no l^appier l^eart tl^an rnin©- 
 
 For never a l]igl^way windetli over tl^e eartl^, but tl^ere 
 
 Feet of tl-|e Irjappy are on it, — feet tl^at are followed by care. 
 
 Tl^e sl)adow thiat ferried tl:\e river Y\atY[ fallen asleep on tl^e sea I 
 Hnd tY\e river, unt)eard by tl^e rniHer, is singing a song in iT^e. 
 
 Only a glinqpse of tY\e l^ighway I get as I sit by tlie door! 
 But it tiints at tl^e journey belnind nqe. nnrl thP journey 
 
 rernaining before. 
 
 Hiram Rich, 
 
 ( 21 )
 
 IN cJUNE 
 
 "I shoTw unto you a mystEry." 
 
 0, friend, your face I cannot see, 
 
 Yoiir voice I cannot l^ear. 
 But for Us bott| breaKs at our feet 
 
 Tl)e flood-tide of tY\e year I 
 Tl^e sUrqnqertide all beautiful 
 
 Witl^ fragrance, and \Vitl\ song 
 Sung by t]\e ]:|appy-]^earted birds 
 
 To c]:\eer tl-^e inqontl^s along. 
 
 RT[d so t]\e riqystery I slr\ow 
 
 Is ti|is, all sinqple-sWeet : 
 Because God's sUrnrnertide so breaks 
 
 fit yours and at rny feet. 
 We're not so very far apart 
 
 As it at first would seen) 
 We're near eacl) oti^er in tt|e Lord 
 
 Tt\e nqiles are all a dreanq. 
 
 John W. Chad".-:
 
 ANGELS' WINGS 
 
 ]MY\er\ siirT\rr)Gr days v^ere warrri and sweet 
 
 Wit]:) clover-bloorr\ and ripening wl:\eat, >,_ 
 
 We used to lie Upon tl^e grass 
 Witl:|in tl^e flickering slr^adow spread 
 By leafy brancl^es overl^ead, '-^■ 
 
 fln.d watcl:| tlie brigl-|t clouds slo"Wlv 
 pas=; 
 
 Tl^ey Were so Wt^ite against tl^e blue, 
 Witl^ sucl^ a glory strearning tiirougt) 
 
 Tt^eir silver fleeces, we were sure 
 Tl:\ey rriust, at least, be angels' wings ; 
 find ttie nqere fancy of suct) tilings 
 
 Kept cl^ildisl:) speecl:] and conduct pure. 
 
 We nqust not quarrel, Wl:)en tl^e sKies, 
 For all we Knew, were full of eyes 
 
 Tt|at watct]ed to see if we were good ; 
 Rr\d sornetirnes just tl:\e sigl^t of one 
 Wl:iite cloud illUrqined by tY\e sun 
 
 Availed to cl^ecK an angry nqood. 
 
 Now we are wonqen grown, and rqen, 
 Tl-^at were but careless cl^ildren tt^en : 
 
 Wise witl^ our realistic lore, 
 Trie sl^ining rnystery we explain — 
 Only a vapor born of rain 1 — 
 
 And drearri of angels' wings no nqore 
 
 But are we wiser, after all? 
 Haply tY[e world-worn l^earts recall, 
 
 Witli sonqethiing like a tt)rill of dread, 
 Wl^at tinqe tt^e Master, Undefiled, 
 "Set in tlrieir rqidst a little ct^ild,' — 
 
 And wlnat tlie Words were ttiat He said. 
 
 It nriigtit — We silently infer — 
 It rnigllt perl^aps be easier 
 
 T\\e Kingdorn of tl^e Lord to win. 
 If still in far blue sunqrner skies 
 We felt the watcl:iing angel eyes 
 
 Tixat Kept our ctiildis^ l^earts fronq sin. 
 
 Mary E
 
 \^ 
 
 4. 
 
 % 
 
 V- 
 
 WHITE CLOVER 
 
 lr\ nqyriad snowy cl^alices of sweet 
 
 Tlioii spread'st by dusty ways a bouquet firie, 
 
 So firie tl^at vulgar crowds of it no sign 
 Observe I r\ay, trarnple it beneatl^ tl^eir feet. 
 0, dainty and unsullied on© I no n\eet 
 
 Interpretation I of tl^ee divine. 
 
 Althjoug]:! all sUrqrner long I q^aff ti^y wine, 
 And never pass tl^ee but to reverent greet. 
 Hnd pause in w'onder at thie nqiracle 
 Of tt^ee, so fair, and yet so nqeeKly low. 
 
 Mayl^ap tl)ou art a saintly princess bowed, 
 In token of sorne grief wl^icl) tl^ee befell. 
 Tl^is pilgrirnage of rqinistry to go, 
 
 Rnd never speak tliy lineage aloud [ 
 
 Aa h. h. 
 
 X
 
 MENTONE 
 
 ^li llAKrms .\I.\ii.v/.l.SK. copyrij^lil, lfSJS4, by IhiriJi-r .v Hn>tluTs. j 
 
 " find thers ■was ai-jen nnta thr=in a =;hort timR 'hHfnrp thev v7E=nt fnrw/ard. 
 
 Upon tr|is sunriy sl^ore 
 R little space for rest, Tl^e care and sorrow, 
 
 Sad nqerriory's l^ailritirig pair) tl^at would not cease, 
 Are left bel^ind. It is not yet to-nqorrow, 
 
 To-day tlqere falls tlr\e dear surprise of peace I 
 Tl)e sky and sea, tl^eir broad wings round us sweeping, 
 Close out tl^e World and l^old us in tl\eir keeping. 
 R little space for rest. R]\] tY[0\lqY\ soon o'er, 
 How precious is it on tl)e sunny sl^ore i 
 
 Upon tl:\is sunny sliore 
 R little space for love, wl^ile tl\ose, our dearest. 
 
 Yet linger with) us ere tl^ey wing tlieir fligh^ 
 To tl^at far world Wl^icl] now dotl) seenq t\\e nearest, 
 
 So deep and pure tl|is sky's down-bending ligllt. 
 Slow, one by one, tl:\e golden Iqours are given 
 R respite ere tl|e eartl\ly ties are riven. 
 Wl)en left alone, l^ow 'rnid our tears we store 
 Eacl) breatl\ of tl)eir last days upon tljis sY\ore I 
 
 T V 
 
 Upon tl)is sunny sl|ore 
 R little space to wait: tl|e life-bowl broken, 
 
 Tl\e silken cord Unloosed, tY\e nnortal narne 
 We bore Upon tl|is eartl) by God's voice spoken, 
 
 While at t^e sound all earthly praise or blanqe. 
 Our joys and griefs, alike wit!) gentle sweetness 
 Fade in tY\e dawn of tl^e next world's conqpletenes 
 Tlqe hour is t^ine, dear Lord ; we ask no rnore. 
 »But vJait thv summons on tl^e sUnny sl|ore. 
 
 Constance Fenimore Waolson. 
 
 V
 
 NOON AT THE LAKESIDE 
 
 Wl^ite clouds, whiose sl^adows h]aiirit tl^e deep, 
 Ligl^t nqists ^hiose soft enqbraces Keep 
 Tl^e sUnsliirie on tl^e Iqills asleep t 
 
 0, isles of calrr[I 0, dark, still wood! 
 Arid stiller sKies tl^at overbrood 
 Your rest with) deeper quietude I 
 
 0, slqapes and hjUes, dirT\ 
 beckoning tl^rougl:) 
 Yon rnoUntain gaps, mv 
 
 longing vie-.. 
 
 Beyond tY[e purple and 
 tYxe blue, 
 
 To stiller sea and greener 
 
 land, 
 And softer ligl)ts and 
 
 airs rT\ore bland. 
 And skies — tlc\e l)olloW of 
 
 God's l|andl ,4 
 
 Transfused tlqroUgl) you. rnoUntain friends I 
 Witl) rriine your solenin spirit blends, 
 And life no rnore l^atl^ separate ends. 
 
 I read eacli nqisty rnoUntain sign. 
 I knovi^ tY\e voice of wave and pine, 
 And I arn yours and ye are nqine. 
 
 Life's burdens fall, its discords cease, 
 
 1 lapse into tl\e glad release 
 
 Of nature's own exceeding peace. 
 
 Rocked on Uer breast, tl:\ese pines and 
 Alike on Nature's love rely : 
 And equal seeiT\s to live or die 
 
 Assured tl^at He wlqose presence fills 
 Witt\ ligl^t tl^^e spaces of tl)ese b'i]'= 
 No evil to l:\is creatures wills. 
 
 Tt\e sirT\ple faitl^ rernains. tl^at He 
 Will do, wl:\atever tl^at rqay be, 
 Tt\e best alike for n\an and ^'''^•"^ 
 
 Wlqat iTiosses over one slqall gjow, 
 What ligl)t and life tl)e ott\er know', 
 UnanxioUs, leaving Hirn to sl^ow. 
 
 WhltUer. 
 
 :: ..c.JC.;ie 
 
 { 31)
 
 TO MY COMRADE TREE 
 
 The tree may still be standing -which shall be your last resting-place," 
 
 H. R. Boyd. 
 
 ReiTiote iri \\^oods W]:\ere tl^rxisl^es cl^arit, 
 Or on sorqe lonely rr\OLlritairi's slope, 
 
 Or in a copse — t]\e cUcKoo's l^axint — 
 Witli fingers pointing to tl)e cope, 
 
 Thiere stands a tree, tt\ere stands a tree 
 
 Must fall before tl\ey bury rqe. 
 
 Vi^ailing l^eartT wliere'er tl^ou art, 
 fit last tl^y dust 'Witl^ rnine sl^all blend ; 
 
 For tl^oUgl] ^e spend our days apart, 
 We conqe togetlqer at tl^e end ; 
 
 find tilou Wit]:\ ine, and I wit]:) tt\ee. 
 
 Must lie in perfect Unity. 
 
 Witl)in a crarnped confine of space, 
 find owning n^ugl^t of e'artl^ beside, 
 
 Tl|at l\eart TC\ilst be rny dwelling-place 
 For w]:|orn tl^e world Was not too wide. 
 
 R neW-tinqe Dryad, rnine in.ust be 
 
 Tl)e sl^ape tl\at sl^all intiabit tlr^ee. 
 
 Percl^ance, in sonqe lone Wandering, 
 On tliy old roots I n\ay Y\ave lain, 
 
 Hnd l^eard above, tl:\e wood-birds sing, 
 Wh\ile God looked down Upon ^s twain. 
 
 find did I feel no tl^rill Witl\ tl:\ee 
 
 Of felloWst\ip and syiT\patl:\y ? 
 
 Is tl^y strange l^eart ne'er wearied out 
 Witl^ standing 'neatl) tl|e oVer-freigt)t 
 
 Of bougies tY\at cornpass tl:\ee about 
 Witl) rqass of green, or wt^ite, a-weigl^t? 
 
 patient tree I patient tree I 
 
 Dost never long for rest — liKe rqe? 
 
 (33)
 
 I Kriow tl^OLi spreadest grateful sl^ade 
 Wl^eri fierce tl^e noontide siin dot^i beat, 
 
 Hr|d birds thieir nests in tl^ee l)ave inqade, 
 Hnd cattle rested at tl]y feet. 
 
 Heaven gi'ant 1 nqake tl^is life of n\ir[e 
 
 fls beaiitifiJl and brave as tl|inel 
 
 And 'Wi\er\ tY\y circling cloaK is doffed, 
 Tl^ou standest on tl|e storrq-s^ept sod, 
 
 And liftest tl)y long arnqs aloft 
 In rniite appealing to tl^y God, 
 
 Appeal for rqe I Appeal for rqe ! 
 
 Tl-|at I rnay stand as steadfastly. 
 
 Let rqe fulfil nqy destiny, 
 
 And calnqly \Vait for tl)ee, friend. 
 For tliou nqust fall, and 1 rnilst die, 
 
 And corqe togetl|er at tY\e end, 
 To quiet slunqbering addressed, 
 Sl|Ut down fronq storrn, sl\ut in for rest, 
 
 Tl)Us lying in God's nqigllty fiand 
 Wl|ile l|is great purposes Unfold, 
 
 We'll feel, as Was fronq Cl^aos planned. 
 His breatl^ inforn) our fornqless nqold, 
 
 New sl]ape for tl^ee, n^W life for nqe. 
 
 For botJq, a vast eternity, 
 
 nanske Dandridge, 
 
 C35l
 
 R YELLOW PANSY 
 
 To tl^e -wall of tl:|e old greeri garden, 
 H butterfly qiiiveririg carqe I 
 
 His wirigs ori tl:\e sonqbre licl^eris 
 Played like a yellovi^ flarr\e. 
 
 He looked at tl\e gray geraniUnqs, 
 
 And tY\e sleepy foiir-o'clocks ; 
 
 He looked at tl\e low laries bordered 
 
 Witl| tl\e glossy-growirig box. 
 
 He longed for tl)e peace arid silence 
 And tt]e sl)adows tl^at lengtlqened tliere, 
 
 And l)is Wee wild l^eart was Weary 
 Of skirqiAirig ti)e endless air. 
 
 And now in tl^e old green garden, — 
 
 I know not 1]0W it can\e, — 
 A single pansy is bloorning, 
 
 Brigt^t as a yellow flanqe. 
 
 And wlqenever a gay gust passes 
 
 It quivers as if witl) pain, 
 For tt|e butterfly soul tl|at is in it 
 
 Longs for tlc\e winds again. 
 
 Helen Dray Cnne. 
 
 "**<*;■ 
 
 ,^'^ 
 
 ^ 37 J
 
 rv 
 
 By day a flower, by niglrit a bud, 
 Her pure soul rocKed iri dreanqy calnqs 
 
 Tln.e lily slept Upon tl)e flood 
 Her nun-llKe sleep witl) folded palrqs. 
 
 MQRNINC 
 
 Last evening's bud laUglis on tY[e flood, 
 H perfect flOM^er of purest -Wlriite ; 
 
 ilrid life is but a folded bud 
 Tl^at still awaits tloie rriornirig lig^^t- 
 
 J. T. Trowbridge, 
 (39)
 
 Rr\ idle drearr)er, ari idle drearq ; 
 
 R napping suri arid a breeze at play ; 
 fl vaqrar\t stiadow, a drowsy strearri, 
 R lazy, 
 
 loitering, 
 
 sUn\nqer 
 
 day 
 
 R 
 SOMNOLENT " 
 YHGflRY 
 
 fl spider winding llis silver Keep 
 To l|old as l)ostage a fly or two; 
 
 fl robin rocKing llirnself to sleep, 
 Serenely recKless tliat notes are due. 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 '\ 
 
 J 
 
 R butterfly boat on a Wave of air 
 Witl) all its satiny sails Unfurled 
 
 For port in a blossonq l^ere and th|ere, 
 Tl|e busiest tilings in tt^is idle world. 
 
 fl gossipy corn-field, inaKing weird, 
 Fantastic bows in a languid Way, 
 
 fl tawny Upland, witl) Unsl)orn beard. 
 Gone fast asleep witl^ tl)e sultry day 
 
 Tl)e sky is teerning Witt] restless gl^osts 
 Frorn Mount Olynqpus and days of old ; 
 
 T]:|ey flit dnd vanisl], and lo, th\e l^osts 
 Of Jason seeKing tl:\e fleece of gold. 
 
 fls sweet a fable as one can find 
 
 Is l^id in tl)e " golden fleece." tY\ey say - 
 01], you are snoring I Well, never nqind ; 
 . I'll tell tl:\e fable sonqe otl)er day. 
 
 H,' D, KnowltDn, 
 
 (4i;
 
 THE JULY GRASS 
 
 fill tilings tl^at are beautiful are found by c]:)arice, like everytl)irig 
 ti^at is good, Here by rqe is a prayer rug, just wide erioUgl) to 
 Kneel or|, of tl)e ric]:\est gold iriwoveri Witl] crirrison. All tl)e sultans 
 of tlrie East never t^ad suet) beauty as tl|at to Kn©©^- on. It is 
 indeed too beautiful to Kneel on, for tl^e life in tl^ese golden 
 flowers rnust not be broKen down even for tl)at purpose. Tl)ey 
 rqust not be defaced, not a stenq bent I It is rnore reverent not to 
 Kneel on tl)ern, for tl^is carpet prays itself. I will sit by it and 
 let it pray for rT\e. It is so cornrnon, tl|e bird's-foot lotus ; it grows 
 everyw]:|ere I Yet if I purposely searcl^ed for days I sl\oUld not l^ave 
 found a plot liKe thiis, so ricl), so golden, so glowing witl) sunsl^ine. 
 You rnigllt pass by in one stride, yet it is wortl^y to be tl)OUgl)t 
 of for a weeK and rernernbered for a year. Slender grasses, brancl|ed 
 round about witl) slenderer bougies, eacl] tipped witl) pollen and 
 rising in tiers cone-sl)aped — too delicate to grow tall — cluster at tl)e 
 base of tl)e rnound. Tl\ey dare not grow tall or tl^e wind would 
 snap tl:\ern. H great grass, stout and tl\icK, rises tt^ree feet by ti^e 
 l^edge, Witl) a ]r\ead anotl^er foot, nearly, very green and strong and 
 bold, lifting itself rigl^t Up to you ; you nqUst say, " Wl^at a fine 
 grass I '■ Grasses wl^ose arrqs succeed eacl) otl)er alternately; grasses 
 wl^ose tops seenq flattened ; otl)ers drooping over tl|e sl:|orter blades 
 beneatl) ; sorne tl|at you can only find by parting "tlie l^eavier growtl] 
 around tl\enn ; l^undreds and hiUndreds, tl\oUsands and tl^ousands I Tt)e 
 Kindly poppies on tf^e ■ dry surnrnit of tl)e rnoUnd taKe no l^eed of 
 tl)ese, tY\e populace, tl^eir subjects, so n^^nerous tliey cannot be 
 nUrnbered. R barren race tl^ey are, t]\e proud poppies, lords of tl^e July 
 field, taKing no deep root, but raising Up a brilliant blazon of scarlet 
 l^eralding out of noticing. Tl^ey are useless, tl^ey are bitter, tl|ey are 
 allied to sleep and poison and everlasting nigllf ; yet tl)ey are forgiven 
 because triey are not cornrnonplace. Notliing, no abundance of thienq 
 can ever rnaKe tl^e poppies cornrnonplace. Tfiere is genius in triern, 
 tl]e genius of color, and tlriey are all saved, Even Wl^en tl]ey taKe t^e 
 roorn of tl^e corn we rnust adnqire tl^enq. TJ^e rqigllty rnultitude of 
 nations, tlie rnillions and rqillions of tl^e grass stretcl]ing aWay in 
 intertangled ranKs, tl^roUgl) pasture and rqead, frorn sl^ore to s^ore, 
 \\ave no Kinsllip Witl) tl^ese, tl^eir lords. Tl)e ruler is always a foreigner. 
 Frorn England to Cliina tl^e native-born is no King ; ^^e poppies are tl^e 
 Norrqans of t]\e field. One of tY\ese on tY\e rnound is very beautiful; 
 a widtl] of petal, a clear silKiness of color, tt\ree sl^ades l\igl)er tl^an 
 tlie rest, — it is alnqost darK witl] scarlet. I wislq I could do sonqeti^ing 
 nqore tY\ar\ gaze at all tlqis -scarlet and gold and crinqson and green, 
 sornett)ing rnore tlqan see it, not exactly to drinK it or inliale it. but 
 in sorn.e Way to nqaKe it part of rne tt|at I rniglqt live it, 
 
 PrDm an essay on the July grass, by Richard Jefferies. 
 
 (43)
 
 FIELD-PATHS 
 
 Patios of tY\e fields, 
 
 pleasant patios tl^at stray 
 T:\\YonqY\ tY\e. deep \\;irid-trod pastures of tl^e spring, 
 TY\roUqY\ all tl^e glory and the blossorqirig 
 
 That silrqrrier yields. 
 Corripanioned of tl^e golder) buttercup, 
 Up heaven's far cloud-flecKed sapphire gazing, — ^P. 
 Piercing to heigl^ts that see the sKylarK sing,— 
 Frorn the \\;orld's weariness, frorn ]:\ope's decay, 
 Lead rqe, oh^ lead n\e, pleasant paths, a^ay,— 
 
 Paths of the fields I 
 
 Who Knovi/s not ho^rs, 
 
 Hours \\;hen life longs to cease 
 Its endless questioning of the rnystery 
 Of sorro\^^ ; w^hen the eternal ill we see 
 
 HU hope o'erpowers? 
 Oh I in such ho^rs of darKness and of fear. 
 In joy and quietude alike, be near; 
 Near in deep tranqililness and gladness be I 
 Through nature's placid calrq. throUgl^i sWeet release 
 Frorn doubt, frorn tears, oh I lead rqe, paths of peace, 
 
 Paths of tlie fields. 
 
 William C. Bennett.
 
 THE RIVER OF REST. 
 
 R beaiitiful streanq is tY\e River of Rest ; 
 
 Tl^e still, \\^ide Waters sweep clear arid cold, 
 fl tall rr\ast crosses a star in tl\e west, 
 
 R wl|ite sail gleanqs if) tl\e West World's gold 
 It learis to tl^e sl^ore of tl\e River of Rest — 
 TY\e lily-lined s]:\ore of tl^e River of Rest. 
 
 Tl:\e boatnqan rises, l^e reacl]es a i\ar\d, 
 He Knows you well, l^e will steer you true, 
 
 Hnd far, so far fron\ all ills on land, 
 Fronq liates, frorq fates tl)at pursue and pursue; 
 
 Far over tl^e lily-lined River of Rest — "^^^ 
 
 Dear, inystical, inagical River of Rest 
 
 fl storied, sweet strearq is tl^is River of Rest; 
 
 Tl|e souls of all tinqe Keep its ultinqate sl)ore 
 And journey you east, or journey you west. 
 
 Unwilling or willing, sure-footed, or sore. 
 You surely will corne to tl)is River of Rest — 
 Ti^is beautiful, beautiful River of Rest. 
 
 Joaquin Miller, 
 
 -^rCre^'e ^eS^W- 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 (47 )
 
 ,N 
 
 ONE BUTTERFLY 
 
 R purple stretchi of nqoiiritairis. 
 
 Arid tl^en) and rrie betweeri, 
 R bed of s\veet, red clover, 
 
 Billows of rqeadowy greer). 
 Across tl^e Wirid-swept pastures 
 
 Orie sr]ovi^-whiite butterfly 
 Sails toward tine grand l:\orizori, 
 
 Sole voyager of tlie sky. 
 
 Tl^e delicate cloUd-sl^adows 
 
 Wiri fronf) ti^e nqouritain sides 
 Glinqpses of sl^y, strange color 
 
 Tl^at cornrrion sunsl^ine l^ides. 
 ]M\]o reads tlfjat revelation'? 
 
 We only, tl:\oU and I, 
 In all tl^is noon-lit silence, 
 
 My wl^ite-winged butterfly I 
 
 Is it a waste of beauty, 
 
 TY\at only we bel^old 
 Tl^ose enqerald sl:|ades etl^ereal 
 
 Wavering tl^rougl^ pearl and gold ? 
 My l^eart acl^es witl) tl^e Wonder 
 
 Of all tl^e unrolling sKy, 
 Tlie new innnqense I)orizons, 
 
 My lonely butterfly ! 
 
 Lucy LarcDin, 
 
 (49)
 
 STONE WALLS 
 
 Hlorig tlr[e couiitry roadside, stor^e on stone, 
 
 Past Waving grain-field, and r\ear broken stile, 
 Tl)e walls stretcl] onward an uneven pile, 
 
 Wit]^ ranKling vines and licl^en overgrown ; 
 
 So stand tl^ey sentinel, linclianged, alone, 
 
 Tl^ey're left to watcl^ tt[e seasons passing slow, 
 TY\e sUn\rT\er's sunligllt, or tl^e winter's snow, 
 
 T^e springtinqe's birdling, or tY\e aiitiirnn's naoan. 
 
 Wl^o placed tl:]e stones now gray witlq r^^ny years? 
 
 RT[d did tl^e roilgl) l)ands tire, th|e sore l^earts acl^e, 
 Tlqe eyes grow dinq witl) all tlqeir iT\igh|t of tears ? 
 
 Or did tY\e work seern liglqt for sorqe dear sake? 
 Tl^ose lives are over. flU tlqeir l^opes and fears 
 
 Are lost, like slqadows in tl)e nqorning break. 
 
 Julie M, Llppman. 
 
 THE SONG OF THE SCYTHE 
 
 Mowers, nqerry and brown and blytl^e, 
 
 Whiat is tlqe word nqethiinks ye know. 
 Endless over-word tlqat tY\e scytlqe 
 
 Sings to tlr\e blades of grass below? 
 Scytl^es tlqat swing in tlqe grass and clover, 
 
 Sonqetlqing still tl^ey say as tl^ey pass : 
 Wlqat is thie word tlqat over and over 
 
 Sings tl)e scytlqe to tlqe flowers and grass ? 
 
 " Husli I aYi, l^iislq ! " tY\e scytlqes are saying, 
 
 " Hiislq, and Y\eed not, and fall asleep:" 
 " Husl) 1 " tlqey say to tY\e grasses swaying, 
 
 "HiislqT" tlqey sing to tlqe clover deep, 
 "Hilsl^I" 'tis tl)e lullaby Tinqe is singing, 
 
 " Husl^, and Iqeed not, for all tilings pass." 
 "HUsl)I al^, l^ush} I " and tY\e scytl^es are singing 
 
 Over tlqe clover, over tlqe grass. 
 
 Andre-w Lang, 
 
 (51)
 
 a 
 
 SWEET PER 
 
 Wl^y I love you so is plain to see,— 
 You are tt)e dearest flower of all, 
 
 Sweet Peal 
 
 K bit of purple cloud caUgl^t on a stalK ; 
 fl rosy vapor floating up and down rqy ; 
 
 garden walK- ' 
 
 T\\Q spirit of a flower witi^ wings for fligl:\t, 
 Yet lield by clinging r-oots for our deligl^t. 
 
 fl lovely type ye are of souls, al^ rqel 
 Eartti-bound, but ever reacl:\ing i^P. 
 
 Sweet Peal 
 
 M. F. Butts
 
 JULY 
 
 Wl:)en tY\e scarlet cardinal tei. 
 
 Her drearq to tl:\e dragori fly, 
 Rr]d tY\e lazy breeze nqaKes a riesi 
 
 find nriiirrqiirs a lullaby, 
 
 It is July. 
 
 K \\-~^ 
 
 t 
 
 Wt]eri tl|e tangled cobweb pulls 
 Tl|e cornflower's cap awry, ' y. 
 
 Ri]d tY\e lilies tall lean over thie Wall ^^. 
 To bow to tl]e butterfly, 
 It is July, 
 
 Wl^en tlie lieat like a iT\ist veil floats, 
 
 find poppies flarne in tl\e rye, 
 RT\d trie silver note in tl\e strearqlet's tl^roat 
 
 Has softened alrnost to a sighj. 
 It is July, 
 
 Wl^en' tY\e l)ours are so still tY\at tirqe 
 Forgets tY\en\, ar\d lets tl^ern lie 
 
 'Neatly petals pinK till ttie nigl^t stars winK 
 fit trie sunset in tl^e sky. 
 It is July, 
 
 Wl^en eac^ finger-post by tl\e way 
 
 Says tY\at SlUnqbertown is nig^l ; 
 Wlien tY\e grass is tall, and tlie roses fall, 
 
 And nobody wonders wf|y. 
 It is July, 
 
 Susan Hartley S-w/ett, 
 
 (55)
 
 Its'^ 
 
 r 
 
 sirriple 
 
 Poetry is full of flower-fields, because eaclr\ floiA^er 
 seerr^s full of poetry to us. Tl^e flower-narqes 
 are ofteri little poerris iq tl^enqselves. Tl^ose 
 lor)g, urjcoutl) narqes, dreaded iri botariy, 
 l^ide nature-rneaiiirigs iri ttien). He- 
 liotrope is " s]\e 
 
 Wl^o turns to 
 tt|e sun ; " M.es- 
 erqbryantlrierqUrri 
 is "flower of tl^e 
 rnidday ; " Nas- 
 
 turtiuiT\ carries ^^_._,,^_^^,_ 
 its rneaning of ^^^W^^dft^F " bent- 
 
 nose" in its face; Jr • GeraniUrq is 
 
 "crane's-bill," — let tlr\e seed vessel grow 
 
 and it Will tell tl^e reason ^^y, Saxifrage is " rocK- 
 cleaver," n^nied so frorq its birttiplace in tt^e clefts; 
 flnenon\e is "wind-flower." Tl:|ese, you see, were but 
 t^eart-and-eye nai^es to tlr[e GreeKs, or Ron\ans, just as we call tl^e pets 
 l^eart's-ease, day's eye, inqorning-glory, l:\oneysUcKle, rnignonette. Eacl) peo- 
 ple rias its own. Otl^er flower-narqes corqe down to Us irqpearled Withj 
 rqytl:) and story, — tt^e liyacintl:!, narcissus, Solonqon's-seal, arett^usa, tl:\e 
 passion-flower. Wl^at sacred rorqances tY\e lotus-flower, tl)e TT\artyrs-palrq. 
 tl:\e victor's laurel, recall T Tl:\ere is probably no fanqous poet t]\at Y\as i\ot 
 sealed l^is fanqe into a song about soiT\e favorite of tlr[e field. 
 Wordswortl^'s celandines and daffodils are noted, and 
 Burns' daisy, and Herbert's rose, and Erqerson's rlqo- 
 dora, and Lowell's dandelion, wlqile in ClqaUcer thie 
 wlqole spring buds and sings, and all along tlqe lines 
 of Tennyson flowers brusi) you witt\ fine toucl^es. 
 Nay, every one plays poet Witlq tlqenq, altlqoUglq Iqe 
 writes no verses. We use tlqenq to interpret all tl^e ten- 
 derest tilings in life- Wlqen tlqe lovers want to tell tl^e un- 
 utterable words, tl-^ey betake tlqerqselves to tlqe durqb n\essengers 
 Wlio l^ave learned to say so rr\Ucl). Wlqen We want to rernerqber a 
 l|ill-top view, a rqeeting tl:]at Inas made a l)oliday, sorTqe spot l^oly Witl) 
 old l)istory. We plucK a flower to f\old tY\e n\ernory fast. WY\er\ We Want 
 to send tt)e t^orqe-presence tangibly in a letter, a flower frorq tlqe Window 
 or tlqe field close by Will carry it best. Old booKs drop out tlqe faded 
 blossorqs, put 
 Tlqe Califor- 
 ease just 
 ere it 
 and in 
 drove 
 
 Iqospitals, 
 greeted tlqe 
 got sorqetliing 
 
 ^f 
 
 
 tlqere "to riqarK great places witlq due gratitude." 
 nia rqiner caUglqt sigl)t of tlqe nqountain l^eart's- 
 Wlqere Iqis Uplifted picK Was going to fall, and, 
 fell, l\e Was at l^orqe across tl^e continent, 
 ^ l^is own pasture, wlqere, a barefooted boy, lc\e 
 tlqe cows a tlqoUsaqd tirqes. HollylqocKs aqd 
 lilacs, — wiio tlqiqKs of tlqen) and does not 
 see a qUiet country dooryard in tlqe 
 sunslqine? Tlqe sicK soldiers in arrqy 
 longing foi* certain faces, tones, and touchies, 
 flowers as tl^e best substitute. " Now I've 
 you I" said a wonqan n^i'se, l^olding a buncl) 
 belqind Iqer, to a very sick New England soldier, — " sonqetl^ing for you, 
 just liKe wilat grows in your front dooryard at Iqoinqe. Guess I " 
 
 for 
 
 (57)
 
 ■' LalocsT' l^e whiispered, arid sY\e laid tl^err\ on l^is folded l^arids. " 0Y\, 
 lalocs I l^ow did yoU Know tl^at?" Tl^e lilacs outlived l^inq. 
 We bring flowers into .our cl:\urcl|es ; liKe riqusic visible, tl^ey fill tY\e 
 pauses in tlcie service ; and Wh|o conqes Y\eYe Witl^ purer face or life of 
 sweeter obedience to tl^e laws of Nature ? So sweet, so pure tl)ey are, tl:\at, 
 liKe tl^e l:\oliest friends, thiey fit not joy and Wedding nqornents only, but 
 still nqore naturally tl^ey coinqe in arT\ong tl^e tragedies, tt\e silences, t]\e 
 h[eart-breaks. Is not tl^is tl^e reason winy ? — 
 
 " Wtien lieaven grows din\, and faitl^ seeKs to renew 
 T^e linage of its everlasting dower, 
 I Know no argUiT\ent so sweet as tl^roUgl:) 
 TY\e bosorn of a flower, — 
 
 "R WicKet-gate to l)eaven (of w}:|icl:\ Deatl) 
 
 Is tl^e grand portal, sealed to nqortal eyes). 
 Between Wl\ose little bars tl:\ere cornes tl^e breatt) 
 Of airs fronq Paradise." 
 
 Wtien tl^e "grand portal" I^as opened and sI|Ut close to Us, and We are 
 left witl:\ straining gaze outside, "tlrie WicKet-gate" seerT\s to give conqfort. 
 It seeiris to grant sonqe little vision into tl\e I]idden iieart of tilings, 
 suggesting tl^at ttie darKnsss everywl|ere Isolds possibilities better even 
 tlqan our l]opes. Save for tl|e flower-fact wl:\o could l:\ave drearr\ed tl)at 
 sucl) beauty lurKed in tl)e darK eartl\, was latent in t^ie tiny seed? So 
 We place tl\e flowers around tl|e still, cold face ; We lay tl:|erT\ on graves ; 
 we bring tl|ern to tl|e sicK-i'oonq and tlqe bedside of tt\e dying ; and 
 everywiiere, after Words fail and even rqusic IiUslies, tl^eir presence is 
 a voiceless, unconfuted argUinqent tl^at tl:\e Power Witlr^in all silences 
 and pains and tragedies is Love, and tl^at t]\e possibilities of life are 
 infinite. 
 
 W. C. Qannet. 
 
 (59;
 
 4irt 
 
 
 
 
 WM 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 V* 
 
 f 
 
 
 1 
 J 
 
 THE CITY 
 Tlciey do rieitt^er pligtit nor' \^ed 
 In tl^e City of tl^e Dead, 
 Iri tl)e city \^^l:\ere tl:\9y sleep av^ay tl:|e t)ours 
 But tl\ey lie, ^l^ile o'er tl-ierT\ range 
 Winter-bligl^t and surnnqer c]:|ange 
 And a t|Undred l^iappy \\;]:)isperings of 
 
 flOM^ers. 
 No, tl^ey neitlier \v)ed nor pligl:\t, 
 And t]:\e day is liKe tl^e nigl^t. 
 For tt^eir vision is of othier Kind /ly 
 
 tl\an ours. 
 
 .y*'^ 
 
 Tt^ey do neitl:\er sing nor sigt) 
 
 In tl^at burgl:\ of by and by 
 
 Wl^ere tlrie streets I^ave grasses growing 
 
 But tl^ey rest ^itl:)in tl:\eir bed, 
 
 Leaving all tt^eir tr^oUgl^ts unsaid, 
 
 Deerning silence better far tl^an sob 
 
 or song. 
 No, tl^ey neittier siglri nor sing, 
 Tl\oUgl^ tl^e robin be a-\v»ing, 
 Tl:|OUgl:) tl^e leaves of aUtUrqn rqarcti 
 
 a rqillion strong. 
 
 cool and long : 
 
 Tl:\ere is only rest and peace 
 
 In tl^e City of Surcease 
 
 Frorn tY\e failings and tl^e \v>ailings 
 
 'neatl) ttie sun. 
 And thie v^ings of tl^e swift years 
 Beat but gently o'er tl:\e biers 
 Making rn^lsic to tl^e sleepers every one. 
 T]:\ere is only peace and rest: 
 But to tl^ern it seernett) best. 
 For tliey lie at ease and Know tl^at 
 
 life is done. 
 
 (61) 
 
 Richiaid E, Burton.
 
 THE OTHER SIDE 
 
 ClinQbirig tl^e nqoilritain s sl:\aggy crest, 
 I Vi^ondered rr\Uc]:\ -Wl^at sigt^t \\/>oUld greet 
 My eager gaze ^l^eiie'er rr\y feet 
 
 Upon t]:|e toprr\ost t^eigt^t slfioilld rest. 
 
 Tl^e otlier side lA^as all Unkriowri ; 
 
 But, as I slovi'ly toiled along. 
 
 Sweeter to n\e tl|an any song 
 My dreanq of visions to be slioWn. 
 
 Meanwl\ile tl\e rnoUntain sliriibs distilled 
 Tl\eir sweetness all along rny Way, 
 find tl)e delicious sUrnrner day 
 
 My t^eart witl| rapture overfilled. 
 
 Ht lengtl\ tl)e toprqost n^igllt was gained : 
 
 Tl)e otl|er side Was full in view ; 
 
 My drearns — not one of tl^ern was true 
 But better far l^ad I attained, 
 
 For far and Wide on eitl\er l^and 
 Tl)ere stretcl^ed a valley broad and fair 
 Witt) greenness flast\ing everywl^ere, — 
 
 fi pleasant, smqiling. liornelike land. 
 
 Wl)o Knows, 1 tlioUgt]t. but so 'twill prove 
 
 Upon tl\at nnountain top of deatli, 
 
 Wl^ere we sl^all draw diviner breatl), 
 find see tlie long-lost friends we love 
 
 It rnay not be as we Y\ave drearqed, 
 
 Not \\alf so awful, strange, a 
 
 R quiet, peaceful, l^orqeli' 
 Better tt\an e'er in vision g 
 
 Meanwl^ile, along o^UpWard way 
 Wliat beauties J^K, wlqat visions glow I 
 Wl^atever sliaj^f be, tl)is We Know 
 
 Is better t^ar\JOUr lips can say. 
 
 Jnhn W. Chadvjlck 
 
 (63)
 
 OVER THE MOUNTAINS 
 
 WY\at slc\a\\ I see if ever I go 
 
 Over tl^e Eqouritairis t\igt|? 
 Now I can see but t\\e peaKs of sriow, 
 Crowriirig tl^e cliffs wliere the^ine-trees grow, 
 
 Waitirig and longing to rise 
 
 Nearer tl^e becKoning sKies. 
 
 TlTje eagle is rising far away 
 
 Over tl^e rnountains Iriigli T 
 Rowing along in tli© radiant day, 
 Witlri rnigl^ty stroKes to l)is distant prey I 
 
 Wl^ere l^e will, swooping downward, 
 
 Wl)ere l^e Will, sailing onward. 
 
 Birds witl| your cl^attering, wl^y did ye corqe 
 
 Over tl|e rnountains lligl)? 
 Beyond in a sUrnrner land ye could roarn, 
 Hnd nearer to l:\eaven could build your h)orneT 
 
 Wriy l)ave ye corqe to bring 
 
 Longing, witi^out your w?ing? 
 
 St^all I, tl^en, never, never fly 
 
 Over t]\e nqountains lligl^9 
 Rocky Walls, will ye always be 
 Prisons, until ye are tornbs for rne, 
 Until I lie at your feet. 
 Wrapped in rny winding-sl|eet ? 
 
 
 flwayl I will away, far aWay, 
 
 Over tl|e rqountains hiigl| I 
 Here I aui sinking lower eacl) day, 
 Tl^oUgl) rny spirit h|as cl^osen tl^e loftiest way T 
 
 Let l^er in freedorn fly, 
 
 Not beat on tl^e walls and die! 
 
 Over 1 know, I sl^all journey far 
 
 Over tl)e rnountains l^igll. 
 Lord, is tt^e door already ajar? 
 Dear is tl^e l^orqe wl^ere tl^e saved ones are I 
 
 But bar it awriile frorn rqe. 
 
 And lielp rr^e to long for tliee 
 
 (65)
 
 WHERE DID IT GO ? 
 
 Wh|ere did yesterday's sunset go 
 
 Wl^eri it faded down tl^e hiills so slow. 
 
 RT[d tY[e gold grew dirq, and th|e purple ligl^t 
 
 Like an arrriy witl) banner's passed frorn sighit? 
 
 Will its flusl^ go into tl)e goldenrod, 
 
 Its tl^rill to tlie purple aster's nod, 
 
 Its crirr\son fleck tl)e rqaple-boUgl], 
 
 Hnd tl]e auturqn-glory begin froiri now ? 
 
 Deeper tl)an flower-fields sank tl^e glow 
 
 Of tY\e silent pageant passing slow. 
 
 It flusl\ed all T[iqY\t in rnany ci drearn. 
 
 It tl^rilled in tl^e folding Iiush, of prayer, 
 
 It glided into a poet's song. 
 
 It is setting still in a picture rare ; 
 
 It cl^anged by tl\e rqiracle none can see 
 
 To tine sliifting liglits of a synqpl^ony ' 
 
 And in resurrections of faiti] and l]ope 
 TI)e glory died on tY\e staining slope. 
 
 For it left its ligllt on tl^e l^ills and seas 
 TY\at rirn a tl^ousand rnernories. 
 
 William C. iJ-a.niiett. 
 
 (67;
 
 THE SNOWING OF THE PINES 
 
 Softer tY[ar\ silence, stiller tlqan still air, ' 
 
 Float down frorr) l^igl) pine boUgl^s ttie slender leaves, 
 
 Tl)e forest floor its ann^^al boon receives, 
 Tliat cornes liKe snow-fall, tireless, tranquil faii^ 
 Gently tliey glide, gently tl)ey clotlrie tl\e bare 
 
 Old rocKs witl) grace, Tlieir fall a n\ar\tle Weaves 
 
 Of paler yellow tlian aUturnnal sl)eaves 
 Or tliose strange blossorns tl:\e witcl\-l:iazels Wear 
 Atl)wart long aisles tlie sUnbeanqs pierce tlieir way : 
 
 Higl) Up, tlie crows are gattiering for tt\e nigtit ; 
 Tlie delicate needles fill tl^e air ; tl\e jay 
 
 Takes tl\roUgli tlieir golden mist l)is radiant fligllt ; 
 Tliey fall and fall, till at November's close, 
 Tl)e snow-flaKes drop as ligl^tly, snows on snows 
 
 TtiDmas Wentw/orth Higginsan 
 
 NIGHT IN PEACE 
 
 Night in tlie woods, — nigl^t : 
 
 Peace, peace on tl)e plain 
 Tlrie last red sunset beam 
 
 Belts ttie tall beect) witli gold ; 
 
 Tl)e quiet Kine are in tlie fold, 
 Hnd stilly flows tlie stream- 
 Soon sliall we see ttie stars again. 
 For one m^^e day down to its rest lias lain. 
 Hnd all its cares Iqave taken fligllt. 
 
 Hnd all its doubts and pain 
 Niglit in tlqe woods, — nig ^i^ ; 
 
 Peace, peace on ttie plain 
 
 E. R. sill. 
 
 (69)
 
 R BAND OF BLUEBIRDS 
 
 (IN B.UTLJMN) 
 
 [Kn.n, llMii-iliN .Ma..\/.im.. (-..iiyrij;:!!, 1.S.SC., Iiy llur|nT \ IJrotiK 
 
 Oh. happy band of bluebirds, 
 
 Brave prophets of the spring, 
 flnqid the tall and tufted cane, 
 
 How blithesonnely you sing' 
 What rqessage ha^-iilts your nqusic 
 
 Mid auturnn's dusky reign? 
 You tell us Nature stores Y\er seeds 
 
 To give thern back in grain 1 
 
 Your throats are gleeful fountains, 
 
 Through v^ihich a song-tide flov^; 
 Your voices greet rne in the v^'oods 
 
 On every Vi^ind that blows I 
 I drearn that Heaven invites you 
 
 To bid the Earth " good by ; " 
 For in your wings you seerr\ to l:\old 
 
 R portion of the sky I 4 
 
 Oh, happy band of bluebirds, 
 
 You could no^ long rerqain 
 To flit across the fading fields 
 
 And glorify the grain. • ■ 
 You leave rr\elodious nqernories. 
 
 Whose sweetness thrills n\e through 
 flh. if i^y songs were such as yours 
 
 They'd alnqost touch the Blue! 
 
 \sniliam H. Havne. 
 
 :\. 
 
 
 (71;
 
 SEASIDE GOLDENROD 
 
 ^ 
 
 -2/ 
 
 Graceful tossing pluinqe of glowing gold, 
 Waving lonely on tY\e rocky ledge ; 
 
 Leaning seaward, lovely to bel^old. 
 Clinging to tine liigl^ cliff's rocky edge; 
 
 Burning in tl^e pure Septenqber sky, 
 Spike of gold against tl^e stainless blue 
 
 Do you Watc^i tl^e vessels drifting by? 
 Does tlie quiet dayseenq long to you? 
 
 To you rr\y l)UrT\an tl^ougl^t I bring, 
 
 Sit nqe down your peaceful watcl) to sl^are 
 
 Do you l)ear tl^e waves below Us sing ? 
 Feel you tlie soft fannirig of tlie air? 
 
 How n\UcY\ of life's rapture is your righ|t? 
 
 In eartl^'s joy Wl]at rTqay your portion be ? 
 Rocked by breezes touched by tender ligl^t. 
 
 Fed by dews and sung to by tl\e sea ! 
 
 Sornet^[ing of deligl)t and of content 
 Must be yours l:\owever vaguely known ; 
 
 Hnd your grace is nqutely eloquent, 
 
 And your beauty nqakes tl^e rock a thrnnp 
 
 Matters not to you, golden flower! 
 
 Tl|at sucli eyes of worsl^ip Watcl) you sway, 
 But you riqake n:\ore sweet tl)e drean\ful hour, 
 
 And you crown for n\e tY\e tranqiiil day. 
 
 ^^ 
 
 
 (73)
 
 THE BLIND GENTIAN 
 
 It grows in nqariy a r)ooK ar)d berid 
 
 Our ailtunqri ways along. 
 Far coiisin of tl^e flower wliici) love 
 
 Has sanctified Witl) song. 
 
 fi poor relation, so it seerns, 
 
 Wliorn no one cares to praise I 
 Tl^at never gave a poet yet 
 
 One leaf anqong 1)13 lays. 
 
 No nqaiden lays you to tier breast 
 
 Or bends you to I|er zone. 
 No rutl]less l]and is glad to plucK 
 
 RT[d clairn you as its own. 
 
 I often wonder wl\at witl^in 
 
 Dotl~i security abide ; 
 And never yet l|ave dared to plucK 
 
 Tl\e clinging veil aside. 
 
 Wl\atever fate Iiatt) rnade you tI)Us — 
 
 H fountain closely sealed — 
 One lesson i^ your looKs I find 
 
 For gentle souls revealed. 
 
 For wl]o, and not fiirnself be blind, 
 
 Can pass your coverts by, 
 Nor find tl|e colors tl^at you wear 
 
 Ti)e bluest of tl)e sKy. 
 
 Sucl\ your reward, or sucl) I deern, 
 
 For reverence pure and sweet, 
 Wliicli veils an angel-face Wl\ere sorne 
 
 RUsI) in with} foolisl] feet. 
 
 Dear, l)Urqble flower, go l\orne Witt\ nqe, 
 
 TY\at I nr\ay better tell : 
 Witl) sUcli as are least bold Witt) l|eaven 
 
 DotYx nqore of l]eaven dwell. 
 
 J. W. Chadwlck. 
 (75)
 
 DOWN TO SLEEP 
 
 NoVerTiber -woods are bare arid still ; 
 
 Noven\ber days are clear and brigl)t ; 
 Eacl] rioon biirris Up tl^e irjorriirig cl|lll ; 
 
 TY\e n\orning's snow is gone by nigl)t. 
 
 Eacl) day n)y steps grow slow, grow ligilt, 
 fls thirougl) tl)e woods I reverent creep, 
 Watcljing all tilings lie "down to sleep." 
 
 -i«iiitf 
 
 I never l^new before w]:\at beds, 
 Fragrant to srqell and soft to toilcli, 
 
 Tl)e forest sifts and sl^apes and spreads. 
 I never Kn©^ before l:\ow nnucti 
 Of l]iirnan sound tl\ere' is in silc]\ 
 
 Low tones as tl|rougl\ tl)e forest sweep 
 
 Wl)en all wild tilings lie " down to sleep," 
 
 if- 
 
 ^^^'^fli 
 
 'TOk 
 
 Eacl) day I find new coverlids 
 
 Tucked in, and rriore sweet eyes s^^Ut tigl|t 
 So]Ti.etiiT\es tl^e viewless rnotl|Gr bids 
 
 Her ferns Kneel down, full in n)y sigl)t ; 
 
 I liear tl|eir ct^orus of "good nigl^t ; " 
 Rr\d lc\a]f I siiqile and l^alf 1 Weep, 
 Listening Wtjile tl)ey lie " down to sleep." 
 
 Novernber woods are bare and still ; 
 
 Novenqber days are brigl|t and good ; 
 Life's noon burns Up life's nqorning cliill ; 
 
 Life's nigllt rests feet tl|at long l^ave stood ; 
 
 Sonqe warnq, soft bed in field or wood 
 Tl)e nqott^er will not fail to Keep, 
 Wl)ere we can " lay Us down to sleep." 
 
 Helen Hunt Jackson, 
 
 (77)
 
 Hours ain\less — dr;^ _ is tY\e n|ilK-Weed's down 
 In seenqirig, still a seed of joy ye bear 
 T]\at steals into tl^e soul, wir^en Unaware, 
 
 Ri\d springs up Mernory in the stony town. 
 
 J J) Helsn Dray Cane. 
 
 o^V^ 
 
 /5/: 
 
 m 
 
 4 
 
 (79) ^^
 
 i. "u ti J. i>
 
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