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 1914 
 
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COPYRIGHT 1914 
 
 BY 
 MAY C. LASSEN 
 
ftT) 
 
 This book of natural poems is lovingly dedicated to my sister, 
 
 ALBERTINE, 
 
 known in religion as 
 SISTER MARY BERCHMANS, 
 
 of the 
 
 Academy of Our Lady of Mercy, 
 Red Bluff, California 
 
 293720 
 
Poetry, Music and Flowers 
 
 All three God-given gifts from Heaven. Balm 
 to the wounded heart, to the stricken soul and all 
 within our immediate posession could we but real- 
 ize it. It is in everyone's nature to dream or to 
 pine. To dream for the things we most desire or 
 to pine for what we cannot obtain. A dream is but 
 a thought to realization, to realize is to act and 
 thus accomplish the end we have in view. While 
 on the other hand to pine is to fade away and per- 
 ish in the depths of inaction, thus accomplishing 
 nothing in this active world of ours into which we 
 were born for some future purpose. We cannot all 
 be poets but we can all cultivate and beautify our 
 minds daily with the reading of some good poem to 
 lift us up and out of our despondency and despair, our 
 sorrow or bereavement. What more bright and 
 cheery verse to drive away the blues or discontent- 
 ment than the following one: 
 
 Keep Sweet. The robin in the tree 
 Chirps forth his cheery song to me, 
 
 So many times, as tho' he knew, 
 That I was sorrowful and blue. 
 
 Still from his perch, high overhead 
 Keep sweet, keep sweet, keep sweet he said 
 
 And if you listen you may hear, 
 His voice musical with cheer. 
 
Cheer up, I heard it all along 
 The way, from trees came forth the song 
 
 So many times as though the words 
 Were messages from cheery birds. 
 
 Through all the woods, their music rang 
 Cheer up, cheer up, cheer up they sang. 
 
 And if you listen, you may hear 
 The message hopeful with good cheer. 
 
 Don't fret. I heard the branches stir 
 With many a hopeful messenger 
 
 Who in his wisdom seemed to know 
 That I was worn, and grieving so 
 
 So from the branches overhead 
 Don't fret, don't fret, don't fret he said. 
 
 Until in listening, I forgot 
 My troubles all, and fretted not. 
 
 And again. When the Angel of Death has 
 hovered nigh and taken a dear one from us, leaving 
 us alone in our great bereavement what more hope- 
 ful verse to comfort us than the following, which I 
 know will help and soothe the wound as nothing 
 else can do. 
 
 When to my soul you come 
 Missing the body so 
 
 Think not, that I am dumb, 
 All of your grief I know. 
 
It is my voice you hear, 
 When loving life so well 
 
 You feel no passing fear 
 With my glad soul to dwell. 
 
 Here in this narrow bed 
 God gives me clearer eyes 
 
 All that I did and said 
 Lived on for Paradise. 
 
 So simple Heaven is - 
 Life is but truly blest 
 
 When death in speechless bliss 
 Holds wide the door of Rest. 
 
 So my readers, I hope my foreword may take root 
 in your hearts and minds, and soothe you o'er life's 
 pathway as the soft, sweet tones from the violin, or 
 the fragrance from the purest things that grow, the 
 flowers. Beautiful, fragile. They blossom, bloom 
 and fade within a day. Heaven sent messages from 
 
 God. 
 
 May C. Lassen. 
 
Page 
 
 Autmn Sadness 
 
 1 
 
 A Hope 
 
 2 
 
 A Memory 
 
 3 
 
 A Lullaby 
 
 4 
 
 A Regret 
 
 5 
 
 A Summer Morn 
 
 6 
 
 A Sunset 
 
 7 
 
 A Wish 
 
 7 
 
 A Supplication 
 
 8 
 
 An Awakening 
 
 9 
 
 A Poem 
 
 10-11 
 
 At Twilight 
 
 12 
 
 Christine 
 
 13 
 
 Fancied Voices 
 
 14 
 
 For You 
 
 15 
 
 Friendship 
 
 16 
 
 Full Blown Roses 
 
 17 
 
 In May 
 
 18 
 
 Little Hindu Maid 
 
 19 
 
 My Father 
 
 20 
 
 My Desire 
 
 21 
 
 My Ode 
 
 22 
 
Not Dead 24 
 
 One Day 25 
 
 Poppies 26 
 
 Remember 27 
 
 Riverside 28 
 
 The Angelus 29 
 
 The Muse 29 
 
 To A Japanese Plum Tree 30 
 
 To A Magnolia 30 
 
 To California 31 
 
 To Nature 32 
 
 To My Mother 33 
 
 To My Sister 34 
 
 To Sister Mary Monica 35 
 
 To Germany 36 
 
 Until You Came 37 
 
 Waiting 38-39 
 
IN russets, reds, and golden browned, 
 ^ The silent Autumn woods abound. 
 
 With fallen leaves, all dry and sear, 
 Proclaim the Winter-tide is near. 
 
 Gone are the birds with carols gay, 
 While naked trees to winds give sway, 
 
 Sighing a low sad requiem, 
 On foliage dying, dead, gone. 
 
 So in the Autumn of our life, 
 We near the close of earthly strife. 
 
 And melancholy as it seems, 
 Eternal rest fulfills our dreams. 
 
OENEATH the purple shadows of the hills, 
 *** In sweet seclusion quietly I roam. 
 
 'Tween jagged rocks, the rivulets and rills 
 Adown the mountains ever onward rush 
 
 To join, the seething river white with foam. 
 And when bright and twinkling stars at night, 
 
 Come peeping through the fine feathery leaves 
 Of the graceful tall acacia trees 
 
 Swaying so gently in the soft moonlight 
 I close my eyes and hope for home, 
 
 Alas, when I no longer care to roam 
 Beneath the purple shadows of the hills. 
 
A Memory 
 
 A RE you to be only a memory, 
 ''*" Only a memory to me, 
 
 You having loved me so dearly 
 Vowing ever and ever loyalty? 
 
 Can it be I shall never behold thee, 
 Or gaze in your eyes deep and blue, 
 
 That ever and always told me, 
 I am yours forever tender and true? 
 
 If it's only to be a memory, 
 A mem'ry of you and of me, 
 
 Let us cherish it thus fondly 
 Ever into time and Eternity. 
 
A Lullaby 
 
 A yjOTHER, sing that Lullaby 
 v\/ L You sang so long ago. 
 
 When I as a tiny babe 
 You rocked dear, to and fro. 
 
 Sleep my precious Babe, sleep on. 
 May Angels guard my care. 
 
 God in Heaven ever will know, 
 He will hear my prayer. 
 
A Regret 
 
 To My Canary Bird 
 
 ART dead my precious bird, art dead? 
 Why! oh why was I ever led 
 
 To part from thee; so very dear 
 Who loved me: and without a tear - 
 
 Give thee into another's hands, 
 While I into far distant lands 
 
 Would wander, never to see thee 
 Nor hear thy song again for me. 
 
 With sweetest melody dids,t tell 
 All thy love; thy little throat would 
 
 Swell to bursting, with flood of song, 
 Jubilant, all the whole day long. 
 
A Sii:mint5.r 
 
 ripening fields are aglow 
 '"' With golden sheaves of wheat 
 
 While the air is soft and balmy 
 With scent of clover sweet. 
 
 The wild roses in full blossom 
 Are wet with morning dew, 
 
 And from a clump of shady oaks 
 The wood doves bill and coo. 
 
 I, deeming nature sweet and kind. 
 Watch green tasseled barley 
 
 Wave silv'ry in the summer wind. 
 
A v3u:u:>-ei: 
 
 N a flaming red 
 Of a Western sky, 
 The gold sinking sun 
 Bids the day good-by. 
 And twilight is led 
 To draw the night nigh. 
 
 o 1 
 
 A Wisli 
 
 kH to call thee mine forever! 
 
 Naught to part us, none to sever. 
 After living out rounded years 
 To pass forth from this vale of tears, 
 
 To another Life together, 
 Both forever, Aye! forever. 
 
A Supplication 
 
 i leave me alone in my grief, 
 That I may find quiet relief 
 With Him, in meditation sweet, 
 Close beneath the cross at His feet. 
 
 Where I may pray deep from my heart, 
 For new strength, for each daily part. 
 
 To lift my tired soul from earth's strife, 
 Find courage through all this vain life. 
 
An Awakening 
 
 f awoke one sad early morn 
 * To find that I was old and worn, 
 
 Youth had gone, forever had fled, 
 And fond friends once mine were silent 
 
 In yonder City of the Dead. 
 The World quite strange to me did seem! 
 
 Had I been living in a dream 
 That I forgot! I too one day 
 
 Would lose my beauty, fade away, 
 To be as is the common lot, 
 
 As we'd ne'er been and quite forgot! 
 
A Poem 
 
 To My Father 
 The Late E. L. 
 
 Of San Francisco 
 California's Oldest Florist 
 
 I, thou shalt not have lived in vain, 
 And glorified shall be thy name 
 Yet, within the State Hall of Fame. 
 
 Thy youth and time were passed in this our State, 
 Thy toil was ever early and 'twas late, 
 
 To use thy perfect knowledge great and grand, 
 To beautify our most glorious land. 
 
 So then from ev'ry foreign shore there came, 
 Wond'rous flowers, various trees to name 
 
 To California, for all her own, 
 And choicest fruits, and many vines were grown. 
 
 To thee we owe the Magnolia tree. 
 On a white sailed ship from over the sea, 
 
 At thy command, to always grace our clime 
 'Twas sent, to blossom, ever, for all time. 
 
 10 
 
Camellias, fuchias, orchids rare 
 Thou gavest our land an abundant share. 
 
 The first box-wood hedge all trimmed in a row, 
 By thy artistic hand 'twas trained to grow. 
 
 And all of the beautiful lawns so green, 
 Thy master mind, alert, laid out so keen 
 
 To brighten them with tulips in the reds, 
 And most gorgeous were their blazing beds. 
 
 And still now in thy ripe age so serene, 
 Thou still among thy plants are ever seen, 
 
 And always busy art thou, as the bee 
 That hums about the fragrant flowr's and thee. 
 
 Therefore California, our great State 
 With laurel wreath, before it is too late, 
 
 Should, surely crown thee in the Hall of Fame 
 And pay honor to her first Florist's name. 
 
At Twilight 
 
 'ALLEYS deepen into shades of twilight, 
 And hushed are the carols of birds; 
 
 Tinkling sounds, out from the meadows, 
 Came from grazing homeward bound herds. 
 
 With the sun's afterglow, night comes onward 
 With stars twinkling, radiant, bright. 
 
 While cool air is sweet with fragrance 
 Of flow'rs, kissed by coming moonlight. 
 
 It is then that my thoughts to you wander 
 In silence, I live o'er again 
 
 The Past, sweet bliss to remember 
 Where now only ashes remain. 
 
 12 
 
Ciirisli.no 
 
 j know a spot where the almond trees bloom 
 ^ In perfect profusion of pink and white, 
 
 Where bluest of skies are flooded with light, 
 With the bright rays of a warm golden sun. 
 
 Deep blue are the mountains, all tipped with snow, 
 While a winding river glides on below 
 
 In a green and peaceful valley serene. 
 Here in this quiet, contented I'd dwell 
 
 With you as my belov'd, beautiful Queen. 
 
 Then come Christine, where the almond trees bloom 
 In perfect profusion of pink and white. 
 
 When soft shades of evening fade into night 
 We'll watch in a wonderful starlit dome 
 
 The harvest moon rising over our home. 
 
 13 
 
Voices 
 
 ! to the sounds, echoing sounds! 
 m> 1 Which fill the air, so clear and rare, 
 
 With melody sweet, soothe all care. 
 Hark! to the low and plaintive note 
 
 Weirdly sad, as it seems to float 
 Into distance, which knows no bounds. 
 
 Art thou a pure and captive soul 
 Of a dear lost love long since fled 
 
 From out the sanctum of my heart, 
 Tho' ne'er forgot; yet perchance dead? 
 
 Oh! can it be still loving me 
 With thy soft pleading voice in tears, 
 
 Seek thus to awaken mem'ries 
 Of long and by-gone yesteryears? 
 
 Oh hark! hark, pray hark to the sound 
 Of endless love, which few have found. 
 
 Calling softly and intently, 
 Oh! come dear one, oh! come to me, 
 
 And on wings of love and song, I'll 
 Bear thee on to Eternity. 
 
 14 
 
For You 
 
 Barbara Pendleton 
 
 down in my heart 
 Is a spot for you, 
 Where blooms a flower 
 Like the sky of blue. 
 
 And through fading years 
 It blossoms anew, 
 
 This forget-me-not 
 Flower, with love true. 
 
 i 
 
Friendship 
 
 To Harrison Fisher 
 
 as the flowers, 
 * I bring you to-day, 
 
 So is my friendship 
 For you thus alway. 
 
 Oh! what is dearer 
 Than sweet friendship true. 
 
 When all through long years 
 It but firmer grew. 
 
 16 
 
l'ull..Blovy:n Roses 
 
 To two beautiful women 
 
 ' I J WO glorious full-blown roses 
 '* In all their splendid beauty grand, 
 
 Before me in perfection stand. 
 Marv'ling o'er their velvety hue, 
 
 Their fragrance sweet me nearer drew. 
 I gaze, both roses faintly droop, 
 
 So watch their dainty petals fall. 
 Methinks, I hear a voicea call, 
 
 From two souls borne from earthly pain. 
 As slowly petals fall again, 
 
 Sighing, "We have not lived in vain." 
 
 17 
 
IB May 
 
 O" PRINGTIME is here, it is the month of May. 
 ^ The honeysuckles blooming o'er the way, 
 
 It's climbing with its blossoms everywhere, 
 Whose dainty perfume permeates the air, 
 
 And brings sweet mem'ries of my love so fair. 
 
 When the honeysuckles bloom again 
 And the humming birds are here, 
 
 Meet me in the shady willow lane 
 Where the brooklet babbles near. 
 
 There in the summer's warm moonlight night 
 Our love we'll tell 'neath stars bright. 
 
 And we'll dream of future happy days, 
 Of our love to last always, 
 
 When the honeysuckles bloom in May. 
 
Little Hindu Maid 
 
 Y pretty little Hindu Maid! 
 
 As brown as a berry, 
 Red lips like a cherry, 
 With eyes as black as night, 
 
 Sparkling like jewels bright 
 They fill me with delight. 
 
 My pretty little Hindu Maid. 
 
 My pretty little Hindu Maid! 
 Of tiny stature neat, 
 
 A feather on her feet, 
 Her dancing is divine, 
 
 I'm sure to call her mine, 
 And love her for all time. 
 
 My pretty little Hindu Maid. 
 
 19 
 
My 
 
 |EAR heart! could you only come back and see 
 
 The garden, the same as it used to be. 
 The Acacia flow'ring on the hill 
 And all the Shasta Daisies blooming still. 
 Sun rays piercing the Eucalyptus trees 
 Which gently sway, fanned by the first Spring breeze, 
 
 The path-way you trod is just as of yore, 
 Though your dear foot-steps will fall there no more. 
 
iV(y De-yi.ro 
 
 F I could only strew 
 Your lonely grave anew, 
 
 In the silent grey dawn 
 Of each awak'ning morn, 
 
 With blossoms fair and rare, 
 Sweet tenderness and care. 
 
 'Twould comfort this sad heart 
 Which ne'er has ceased to smart, 
 
 Since your pure soul took flight 
 On that mem'rable night, 
 
 Leaving me e'er to mourn, 
 Forgotten and forlorn. 
 
 21 
 
My Ocie 
 
 To Red Bhiff and Friends 
 
 I HE day draws close, the time is nigh, 
 ^ When farewell I must say, 
 To those I love and learned to love, 
 Forever and a day. 
 With tearful eyes and many sighs 
 I slowly wend my way, 
 To soothe each heart from whom I part 
 With " Farewell " for my lay. 
 Farewell to hills I dearly love, 
 Green valleys and clear skies. 
 Where blue towering mountains, with 
 Mt. Lassen, snow-capped rise. 
 To Tuscan Buttes which facinate, 
 I too must say farewell. 
 For daily do mine eyes on these 
 In renewed fondness dwell. 
 Farewell to pretty gardens, with 
 Roses, entangling rose. 
 Among their perfumed beauty oft' 
 I found such sweet repose. 
 Farewell, farewell my song my lay, 
 The saddest yet, you say 
 That I have ever sung to thee? 
 Bless your hearts, in my heart 
 My lasting song for you will be 
 "Always Fond Memory!" 
 
Mot Dead 
 
 | see you ev'ry where! 
 * In ev'ry budding rose, 
 
 In ev'ry plant that grows, 
 E'en in the trees that sigh, 
 
 I feel your presence nigh. 
 Oh no! you are not dead! 
 
 Only your soul has fled, 
 Your mem'ry lives each hour 
 
 In ev'ry lovely flow'r. 
 
 24 
 
0:rre Day 
 
 day I think you will be glad to know 
 That 1 have kept your image in my heart, 
 
 And through all the long and lonely sad years 
 That we have ever lived so far apart, 
 
 My love for you has only deeper grown. 
 One day perchance idly dreaming; the past 
 
 May kindly turn your thoughts again to me. 
 Will you acknowledge my true love at last 
 
 Regretting what your life has sadly missed 
 When the illusions have been hard to bear, 
 
 Or you are tired, weary and forlorn, 
 And there is none to comfort or to care: 
 
 Oh! will you close your eyes and quietly dream 
 Of my fond kisses, tender, soft and light, 
 
 My fingers gently smoothing back your hair, 
 And cheering you to make your dear life bright. 
 
 Oh! will you then remember and be glad, 
 That I have always kept you in my heart, 
 
 And that your soul's true home will yet be there- 
 Although we are now silent and apart. 
 
 25 
 
]J OOK out upon that field ablaze 
 "' With glorious poppies so bright! 
 
 Their cups are filled with morning dew 
 Which sparkles ever in the light. 
 
 O poppies of the Golden West 
 In Springtime bloom you are your best. 
 
 O'er hill and vale and all around 
 Your golden color does abound; 
 
 And when the twilight shadows fall, 
 Your heads in good-night nod to all. 
 
f fE said good-by, he kissed my hand, 
 ! A Whispering sweet and low, 
 
 Remember dear and don't forget 
 My love, I love you so. 
 
 " If you forget, you cannot love, " 
 I whisper to him low, 
 
 "And having loved you can't forget 
 My love, I love you so." 
 
 27 
 
OEMMED in among the purple hills 
 * "* Lies romantic Riverside, 
 
 Known as The Mission City, 
 Ever so far and so wide. 
 
 Her roses in perfection bloom. 
 And trailing and flow'ry vines 
 
 Vie with showy beauty here 
 Above all the other climes. 
 
 Her famous orange groves aglow, 
 All in splendor, with ripe fruit, 
 
 Or with budding branches low, 
 Full with waxen blossoms sweet. 
 
 Then far upon Mt. Roubidoux 
 Saint Junipero Serra's cross 
 
 Stands, where tourists ever meet. 
 
 28 
 
I' Si.:) A.M:;;;|U;; 
 
 I ") ING, sweet Angelus, ring, 
 
 ^ ^ That we may kneel and bring 
 
 Worship, thanks and song, 
 To Him, who'll right all wrong. 
 
 Ring, sweet Angelus, ring, 
 That we may bow, and sing 
 
 God's praises, ever more 
 Our Maker, we adore. 
 
 TlvO 'tYt'USO 
 
 N deep slumbers of the night, 
 A soft kiss on my brow, 
 
 A whisper in mine ear, 
 Bids me awaken now. 
 
 The Muse am I, in thee born, 
 No longer canst thou sleep, 
 
 Rise and ride Pegasus, 
 Thy verse to write and keep, 
 
 And 1 will give thee Fame, 
 With Poet for thy name. 
 
 29 
 
To A jau.utmo Vkim Troo 
 
 Japanese plum tree, 
 In my garden grows, 
 It blooms and blossoms 
 Tho' the March wind blows. 
 
 Its pretty shining leaves, 
 Brush my window screen 
 
 I fancy they sigh, 
 "We keep ever green 
 
 With the cypress nigh-- 
 
 Green, ever green." 
 
 To A Magnolia 
 
 ^ swee t Magnolia blossom, 
 ITA Of such milky whiteness fair, 
 
 How I do adore your beauty, 
 Your odor so rich and rare. 
 
 Your wonderful green leaves so glossy, 
 Oh, most beautiful are they! 
 
 Alas! your glorious beauty, 
 Can only last but a day. 
 
 30 
 
To California 
 
 ON the heights I stand, 
 Mark the slanting rays, 
 
 Of a sinking sun 
 Creep through tall pine trees 
 
 Of noble forests grand. 
 T'is California! my native land. 
 
 Here rivers, vast mountains. 
 Rushing falls and streams 
 
 Lead one ever on to dreams. 
 While glorious nature is seen 
 
 Reigning in majesty supreme. 
 Oh California! an alien 
 
 Long from thy sunny shore, 
 Let me linger near the bosom 
 
 Of thy sloping hills, ever more. 
 
 31 
 
who art overwhelmingly grand 
 Forsooth, I ever acknowledge stand, 
 Before thy strength, thy beauty serene 
 And thy superb majesty supreme. 
 
 To thee I come, weary of the day, 
 Hopeful of finding yet the true way, 
 
 Pour forth all the desires of my soul, 
 My inmost thoughts, new-born and untold. 
 
 For Oh! in my heart, thou calmest me, 
 And so for this balm, I adore thee, 
 
 To thy mountains, thy hills and thy streams, 
 Confide I all my secrets and dreams; 
 
 In thy broad bosom safely are locked 
 By faithless hearts ne,er to be mocked. 
 
 32 
 
To My Moi;Ko( 
 
 A N Irish beauty was my mother fair! 
 
 r ^ Like the raven's wing was her glossy hair. 
 
 And her eyes the modest violet's blue, 
 Whose silken lashes but enhanced their hue. 
 
 Of a personality fine and rare, 
 Was my ever beautiful mother fair. 
 
 With a voice of a low and pleading tone, 
 Whose accents tender, would charm you alone. 
 
 Many years have flown since she passed away, 
 Yet I know she's with me every day. 
 
 And sometimes I feel the touch of her hand 
 Guiding me on toward the better land. 
 
 33 
 
T 
 
 Lovingly dedicated to my sister, 
 
 Mo 
 
 Convent of Mercj, 
 Rsd Bluff California, 
 
 [OBLE and grand of character she, 
 
 That will bloom into Eternity. 
 Sweet and gentle as a child 
 Truly pious, meek and mild. 
 
 All the goodness of her heart 
 Tranquilly she does impart, 
 
 And her loftiness of mind 
 Is Ideality, of rarest kind. 
 
 Full of grace and wit is she, 
 Versatile, e'er with variety, 
 
 She could any Throne adorn 
 For she's to the manner born. 
 
 
To Sister Mary Monica, 
 
 Academy of Our Lady of Mercy, 
 Red Bluff, California. 
 
 OATIENTLY she wends her way, 
 ^ Feeble, aged, tired and worn. 
 
 In the eventide of Life, 
 Faithfully, her cross she's borne. 
 
 All the sorrow, pain and strife, 
 It was all; she called her own. 
 
 Soon in everlasting sleep 
 She'll awaken, near God's Throne. 
 
 35 
 
T Germany 
 
 |H Germany! Oh Vaterland! 
 Land of my ancestors 
 
 Where heroes stand, and stood 
 Down into ages, 
 
 With a most illustrious name, 
 Let not this cruel war forced on thee 
 
 Wreck alas, thy glorious fame, 
 Nor pluck the golden eagle 
 
 From Prussia's waving flag 
 Of black and white 
 
 Nor hurl thy Nation 
 Into grief and flight. 
 
 Oh Germany! It breaks my heart 
 To see thee rise 
 
 From out thy peaceful land, 
 And battle with a foe 
 
 But yesterday thy friend. 
 Yet, since the Fates have willed it so, 
 
 Perchance they too, a hand will lend 
 To give thee strength and bravery 
 
 For conquest,'gainst the many to the end. 
 So thou canst keep thy unsullied name 
 
 For unborn children thine to be, 
 As a Nation guiltless, and forever free. 
 
 36 
 
Until You Came. 
 
 UNTIL you came, the passing days were drear, 
 The brightest sun seemed dim, 
 The bluest skies not clear. 
 All was sad, while loneliness and tears, 
 
 Filled my yearning heart with untold fear, 
 Of all the to-morrows yet to come 
 
 Which unfilled, would pass into yester years. 
 
 Until you came, my life seemed dead. 
 Withered like flowers of other days, 
 
 With the sweet songs of birds long fled. 
 Anguish, pent up in my longing soul 
 
 In vain, itself to free, out of exquisite pain 
 Of a loveless captivity, until you came. 
 
 37 
 
My Boy 
 
 J HE cold, chill winds blow, 
 
 Deep, white, glistening snow 
 Covers the country wide. 
 Quiet at the fireside 
 I sit, dream and wait. 
 
 The first Spring breeze blows, 
 Trailing arbutus grows, 
 
 And birds sing on the wing, 
 New life in ev'rything 
 Yet I dream and wait. 
 
 Summer comes around, 
 With its beauties abound; 
 Birds and bees and flowers, 
 And sunny happy hours, 
 Still I dream and wait. 
 
 Autumn winds blow drear, 
 Bare trees and leaves all sear, 
 The song birds long since fled, 
 And dying roses dead. 
 Yet I dream and wait. 
 
 38 
 
Winter once more near, 
 With frost and blue skies clear, 
 And one who should be here, 
 Ne'er comes, nor will, I fear. 
 Yet I'll dream and wait. 
 
 39 
 
YC 1453! 
 
 U.C.BERKELEY LIBRARIES 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY