- 
 
 (t
 
 BLUE AND GOLD 
 
 OF CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES
 
 BLUE AND GOLD 
 
 WILLIAM S. LORD 
 
 AUTHOR OF "JINGLE AND JANGLE," "BEST SHORT 
 POEMS," ETC. 
 
 CHICAGO NEW YORK TORONTO 
 
 FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY 
 1900 
 
 
 . 
 
 >\
 
 Copyright, 1895, 
 By WILLIAM S. LORD. 
 
 All rights reserved.
 
 BLUE AND GOLD. 
 I ITTLE Two Years Old, my son, 
 
 l^t 
 
 Life for you has just begun; 
 Dew is fresh upon the grass 
 All along the way you pass; 
 Every blade your dear feet press 
 Gives a gentle, cool caress. 
 Violets and buttercups 
 Chronicle your downs and ups. 
 Blue and gold, and gold and blue, 
 Seemeth all the world to you. 
 
 Little Two Years Old, too soon 
 
 You will know the heat of noon. 
 
 Dust along your path will lie, 
 
 And the grass be sere and dry. 
 
 Every blade will give a thrust, 
 
 Cry and urge, ' You must I You must ! ' 
 
 Rose of flame with cruel thorn 
 
 Best will tell the sweet pain borne. 
 
 Red and brown, and brown and red, 
 
 Seems the world the sun o'erhead. 
 
 v. 
 
 2131795
 
 Little Two Years Old, the light 
 Softens when you say 'good-night.' 
 Sweet the journey will be when 
 You are almost home again. 
 Every footstep brings you near 
 Faces, voices, long held dear. 
 Gentian blue and golden-rod 
 Lead you onward up to God. 
 Blue and gold, and gold and blue 
 So the world will be to you.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 THE SONNET 9 
 
 1 TOWARD A FAB LAND ' 10 
 
 EVERNKSS 11 
 
 THE BALLADE OF BRAVE MEN 12 
 
 THE INVITATION 14 
 
 A LYRIC 16 
 
 WATER LILIES 17 
 
 THE DRINKING FOUNTAIN 18 
 
 A WINTER SONG 21 
 
 ACROSS THE SEA 22 
 
 To A DREAMER 23 
 
 TREACHERY 24 
 
 THE MARCH WIND 25 
 
 SORROW IN SUMMER 27 
 
 LOVE A PRISONER 28 
 
 UNSAID 29 
 
 LOVE is DEAD 30 
 
 THE MUSICIAN 32 
 
 LOVE'S ANSWER 33 
 
 CONSTANCY 34 
 
 SONG 35 
 
 WORDS FOR RUBINSTEIN'S MELODY 36 
 
 IN MAYTIME 37 
 
 RHYME-BLOOM 38 
 
 RECOMPENSE 40 
 
 IN SIGHT 41 
 
 TRANSITION 42 
 
 SEPTEMBER THE TWENTY-FIFTH 43 
 
 A SUMMER MORNING 44 
 
 VACATION . , 45
 
 (Content!*. 
 
 FAOE 
 
 LITTLE TRAVERSE BAY 46 
 
 PROFESSOR DAVID SWING 47 
 
 THE COUNTRY SCHOOL 48 
 
 SLEEP 50 
 
 IN DREAMLAND 51 
 
 SPANISH LULLABY 52 
 
 SWINGING TO DREAMLAND . 53 
 
 MOTHER, MOON, AND STARS 54 
 
 HEIGH-HO! MY LADDIE, O! 55 
 
 SUPPOSE 56 
 
 MY RIVAL 58 
 
 DORCHESTER AND DOROTHY 60 
 
 CHRISTMAS is COMING 62 
 
 MOTHER GOOSE 64 
 
 GRANDMOTHER'S SWEETHEART 66 
 
 RHYME OF THE COVERLET 68 
 
 TICK-TOOK LULLABY 69 
 
 NAUTICAL NED 70 
 
 LITTLE ELIZABETH 72 
 
 ALONE WITH THE BABY 74 
 
 SWINGING SONG 76 
 
 STUMBLE TOE 78 
 
 THE WIND'S SONG IN THE TREE-TOP 80 
 
 DREAMING AND DOING 85 
 
 SUBURBAN SILHOUETTES. 
 
 A BALLADE OF CO-OPERATIVE COOKING 87 
 
 THE DOCTOR'S RIDE 89 
 
 THE FROG POND 92 
 
 THE 'FEM. SEM.' GIRL 94 
 
 LINDY 96 
 
 THE Kiss 99 
 
 How THE OTHER HALF LIVE 100 
 
 DON'T 102 
 
 AUNT MARY . . 104
 
 BLUE AND GOLD. 
 
 THE SONNET. 
 
 'THE room encircling Milton's mighty woe 
 Will ne'er give echo to my feeble cry ; 
 The Grasmere Cottage, with the brook near by, 
 
 Where Wordsworth chanted, I shall never know ; 
 
 The home where Shakespeare lived so long ago 
 May prison glories caught from his bright eye 
 More gorgeous than the glow of sunset sky 
 
 For me in vain such matchless wonders show. 
 
 But mark ! there is a little splendid space 
 Shut in by walls the same to-day as when 
 It knew the presence of these marvellous men, 
 And I may pause in that enchanted place : 
 What trumpet tones, what whisperings of delight, 
 The Sonnet holds to gladden day and night !
 
 anU (goto. 
 
 ' TOWARD A FAR LAND.' 
 
 'TOWARD a far land, whose dream - discovered 
 shore 
 
 Our hearts do hope for, we are sailing on ; 
 
 The way is dark, and mutinous thoughts, anon, 
 Protest against the voyage, and implore 
 The master, Faith, to search the sea no more 
 
 For unknown lands. We soon are set upon 
 
 By winds and waves of doubt, that make us con 
 The awful vastness of what lies before. 
 
 But oh, my brothers ! bear abounding trust, 
 And fearless Faith will doubting crew dismay : 
 
 So was Columbus tried by thoughts unjust 
 Who found a world, while seeking for a way 
 
 That would be shorter, from Spain's heat and dust, 
 To the fair gardens of far-famed Cathay ! 
 
 10
 
 Blue ant) (goto. 
 
 EVERNESS. 
 
 \X7HAT of the land, and what of the sea, 
 
 And what of the sky bending over ? 
 
 What is the message they 're bringing to thee 
 
 In language of cloud, wave, and clover ? 
 
 The cloud melts and scatters, and lost in the sea 
 Is the wave in its mighty endeavor ; 
 
 The sweets of the clover belong to the bee, 
 But sea, land, and sky are forever. 
 
 11
 
 Blue ant) alb. 
 
 BALLADE OF BRA VE MEN. 
 
 A SONG for the men so true, 
 
 The sailors of sunken ships, 
 The sport of the winds that blew, 
 
 Devoured by the waves' white lips. 
 
 There, where the seagull dips, 
 There, 'neath the sky so blue, 
 
 There, where the schoolboy strips 
 Brave men, there is rest for you. 
 
 A song for the shipwrecked crew, 
 
 The men of the docks and slips, 
 Propelled by a sail or screw 
 
 You made many perilous trips ; 
 
 With the canvas torn to strips, 
 Before the gale you flew ; 
 
 No more the wild wind whips 
 Brave men, there is rest for you. 
 
 A song for the men too few 
 For nature so few equips 
 
 12
 
 Blue ant) (Solo. 
 
 Who drink that awful brew 
 That only a brave man sips. 
 The stanchest of ships are chips : 
 
 No power can the sea subdue. 
 No longer the cold spray drips 
 
 Brave men, there is rest for you. 
 
 ENVOY. 
 
 Dear friend, every true soul tips 
 To bravery when in view ; 
 
 Where never a chill wind nips, 
 Brave men, there is rest for you. 
 
 13
 
 anfc 
 
 INVITATION. 
 
 \A7HEN April sets her seal upon 
 
 The year, and 'twixt the showers 
 The truant sun returns at last 
 To bless the budding flowers; 
 
 When skies are dappled, softest blue 
 
 With flecks of softest gray, 
 And those who love the greening wood 
 
 May tread the woodland way; 
 
 When earth seems new, fresh from the hand 
 
 Of God, and strangely bright ; 
 And winds no longer pinch or chill, 
 
 But stir us with delight ; 
 
 When mating birds begin their lay, 
 
 And make the season's plans ; 
 When all are winged architects 
 
 Instead of artisans ; 
 
 14
 
 23lue anfc (goto. 
 
 Then let us stray together where, 
 Shut out from worldly din, 
 
 We may surprise the secrets hid 
 The mother's heart within. 
 
 Dear Nature woos us to her breast, 
 Would have us babes again, 
 
 And I, for one, am ready, friend 
 'Tis milk to nourish men. 
 
 15
 
 A LYRIC. 
 
 A LYRIC, miss, 
 
 Is the muse's kiss. 
 Brief and sweet, 
 Yet complete 
 As a smile on a face. 
 Or a bit of lace, 
 Or a turn of wit; 
 
 It, 
 
 Ywis, 
 
 Is neat 
 As a Grecian vase. 
 
 A single star 
 
 On a silver bar ; 
 
 Or a drop of dew 
 
 With a sunbeam through ; 
 
 The flash of a stream 
 
 Where gold sands beam, 
 
 Put in a song, 
 
 Long, 
 
 And far, 
 
 For you 
 In a lyric gleam. 
 
 1C
 
 Blue anfc 
 
 WATER LILIES. 
 
 T TPON the surface of the river lie 
 
 White water lilies; left to drift they seem, 
 Yet changing winds and currents they defy. 
 
 So may my faith, deep-rooted, rest secure 
 Upon the surface of life's running stream, 
 And every change of circumstance endure. 
 
 17
 
 Blue anti oto. 
 
 THE DRINKING FOUNTAIN. 
 
 LJERE in the midst of a city street, 
 
 Worn by the tread of a million feet, 
 Day by day I sing my song, 
 Never heard by the hurrying throng. 
 Man and beast, as they stop to drink, 
 Have no time on my song to think. 
 Still I sing as a minstrel may: 
 One may harken and hear some day. 
 
 High on a mountain once I dwelt ; 
 Heaven's winds were all I felt; 
 Mirrored in my bosom bright 
 Day by day the 'king of light,' 
 Night by night the ' starry hosts ' 
 All the grandeur heaven boasts, 
 Storm and cloud and mountain peak, 
 Nothing idle, aimless, weak; 
 Calm and cool and clear I stood 
 Thinking all was grand and good. 
 
 18
 
 Blue ant 
 
 Once a stranger passing by 
 Told of how his fellows die : 
 How for want of my cool wave 
 Men were dying, good, and brave; 
 Little children ; beast and bird : 
 And I treasured every word ; 
 Pondered them for many a day; 
 Longed at last to break away 
 From my fastness, lone and high, 
 Bearing life to those who die. 
 Down the mountain-side I slid ; 
 In the forest depths I hid ; 
 Rippled over stones and sands ; 
 Touched the edge of pleasant lands, 
 Murmuring as I slipped along 
 Ever some soul-cheering song; 
 Giving life and quenching thirst, 
 Till my heart seemed like to burst 
 With the joys at my dispense 
 Like another Providence. 
 And at last I reached the town, 
 Where the sun's rays beating down 
 Parched and shriveled everything 
 Leaf and pauper, beast and king. 
 
 19
 
 Blue ant oft. 
 
 Here at morn and eve I play, 
 
 Taking pain of thirst away ; 
 
 Giving free as I used to take; 
 
 Joy is mine in the joy I make; 
 
 Happier far am I than when 
 
 Strange were the faces of beasts and men. 
 
 20
 
 Blue antJ 
 
 A WINTER SONG. 
 
 LJERE in the north the snow lies deep; 
 
 The winds are keen with an edge that bites ; 
 
 The days are short and long the nights ; 
 And all that is gentle is dead or asleep. 
 
 Afar in the south the sunshine falls ; 
 
 The winds blow soft with a lover-like kiss ; 
 
 And all of the summer I fondly miss 
 Is awake and out of the distance calls.
 
 Blue anli 
 
 ACROSS THE SEA. 
 
 A CROSS the sea your verses came 
 
 From that dear land where Shakespeare's flame 
 Was kindled into such a glow 
 All other bards like fireflies show 
 
 Mere sparks, but sparks of light the same. 
 
 Do poets there still hope for fame? 
 Where Burns and Keats oh, I can name 
 So many whose sweet songs still blow 
 Across the sea! 
 
 Yes, still they hope ; and who shall blame 
 Their courage, or their song defame, 
 
 When such clear notes from your pipe flow? 
 
 The muse loves English soil, I know 
 And would, if only your song came 
 Across the sea. 
 
 22
 
 Blue ant 
 
 TO ^ DREAMER. 
 
 A FTER many an idle day, 
 
 Dreamer, hasten you away. 
 Build a house to baffle woe : 
 Winds of winter when they blow 
 Like a lash will strike and sting ; 
 Bees are ever busying ; 
 While you indolently dream 
 Hear the constant running stream. 
 Yonder, in the marsh, a pool, 
 Like the dead eye of a ghoul, 
 Glitters and profanes the sky 
 To the noisome things that lie 
 In its depths of pestilence. 
 
 Go ; and as you journey hence 
 May your fondest dreams come true. 
 All the Ages counsel you. 
 
 23
 
 23Iue ant) 
 
 TREACHERY. 
 
 [The two-year-old son of Capt. Lawrence O. Lawson, of 
 the United States Life Saving Station at Evanston, 111., was 
 drowned within sight of his home while playing on the lake 
 shore.] 
 
 Storm. 
 
 'THE seething surf, the angry sea he braves 
 To rescue in his life-boat men of brawn, 
 Who else would perish. Set of sun, or dawn, 
 
 Finds him prepared to battle warring waves. 
 
 Calm. 
 O treacherous sea, to fling a flag of truce, 
 
 And take a noble foeman unawares ! 
 
 To seize his child, the sum of hopes and prayers, 
 When all was calm to watch thee little use.
 
 Blue antJ (0lti. 
 
 THE MARCH WIND. 
 
 Q MAKCH wind, 
 
 What is it grieves thee to despair? 
 Have you sinned 
 
 That furies seek thee everywhere? 
 
 Not so ; I have lost my little ones dear ; 
 I covered them softly with robe of white 
 And left them alone of a winter night. 
 The moon I left burning and little stars bright 
 Oh, kind souls hear ! 
 
 I left them alone, without a fear, 
 
 Tucked snugly into their soft warm bed, 
 Then off on an errand of joy I sped, 
 And now they are gone and I wish I were dead 
 Oh, kind souls hear ! 
 
 I am seeking them everywhere, far and near, 
 And my sighing and crying and shrieking must 
 
 25
 
 Blue anfc oft. 
 
 At last make them hear as I come with a gust 
 And wearing a veil of blinding dust 
 Oh, kind souls hear ! 
 
 The March wind thus her story told ; 
 A mortal may the rest unfold. 
 
 Her sad soul, weary of searching vain, 
 
 At last grew still. Then fell a rain 
 
 Of tears, and tears sweet April showers: 
 And then she smiled and found May flowers 
 
 Her little ones dear, awake again. 
 
 26
 
 Blue antj olU. 
 
 SORROW IN SUMMER. 
 
 THE glad green hills uprise to sadden me ; 
 
 The happy sunlit vales I see through tears ; 
 
 The laughter-loving brooks offend my ears 
 With mirthful music; every gleeful tree 
 That claps its myriad hands in jollity 
 
 The spectre of some dear, dead joy appears ; 
 
 The dancing sunbeams mock unnumbered fears , 
 Though soft the winds, they blow full bitterly. 
 
 The mask of gladness Nature gaily wears 
 
 No more deceives the eyes made clear by grief ; 
 
 I know the chill her secret bosom bears, 
 
 Nor Summer's warmth, nor Beauty, brings relief: 
 
 As cold and white and pure as drifted snow 
 
 My love 's asleep the smiling sod below. 
 
 27
 
 Blue anfc oft. 
 
 .4 PRISONER. 
 
 /^\NE day Love came. I welcomed him. 
 
 As tenant of this house of clay 
 I bade him stay. 
 I set him in a room apart 
 The inmost chamber of my heart. 
 For servants, at his beck and call, 
 My senses all, 
 While hands and feet 
 His will obey with joy complete. 
 Out of the windows he can gaze 
 On pleasant days, 
 
 But when it rains the panes are dim 
 It's smiles or tears because of him 
 That fill my eyes ; 
 Yet, always, he's a sweet surprise! 
 My prisoner now, I '11 keep him so, 
 This one-time guest ; 
 Should he escape me, high and low 
 I'd go in quest. 
 
 That darkened chamber, my poor heart, 
 Would be a tomb should he depart. 
 
 28
 
 Blue anfc oft. 
 
 UNSAID. 
 
 C WEET is the honey the bee hath stored, 
 
 Hived for a winter day ; 
 But sweeter than all of the precious hoard 
 The drops that were spilled in May. 
 
 Fair the rose in the garden grows, 
 
 Queen of the lovely band ; 
 But fairer the flower that never knows 
 
 The touch of the gardener's hand. 
 
 Words of love are honey sweet, 
 
 Each word is a flower full fair ; 
 But fairer and sweeter, than speech completer, 
 
 The thoughts that love doth dare. 
 
 29
 
 Blue ant) (Soil). 
 
 LOVE IS DEAD. 
 
 MOAN, ye wind, moan, oh, moan, 
 
 (Fog o' th' fen and salt o' th' sea), 
 Toss ye the trees till they groan, 
 (Fog o' th' fen and salt o' th' sea). 
 Love is dead, 
 Tears are shed, 
 Hope has fled ; 
 Dole ye a dirge with me. 
 
 Where have they buried him, wind? 
 
 (Fog o' th' fen and salt o' th' sea), 
 Search through the world till ye find, 
 (Fog o' th' fen and salt o' th' sea). 
 Now quick and now slow, 
 Above and below, 
 Away let us go ! 
 Where he is buried lay me.
 
 Blue anli 
 
 Gone is the sweet o' th' rose, 
 
 (Fog o' th' fen and salt o' th' sea), 
 Where it is he only knows, 
 
 (Fog o' th' fen and salt o' th' sea). 
 The skies are not blue, 
 Nor sparkles the dew, 
 All hearts are untrue 
 Naught but the salt o' th' sea ! 
 
 31
 
 Blue anfc 
 
 MUSICIAN. 
 
 some great master lets his soul go free 
 On wings of music, which beat silent air 
 
 Until a rose tint blushes everywhere, 
 And heaven is bursting with the melody ; 
 
 Or when a Patti, or a Gerster, sings, 
 And ears are lips which drink the liquid sound 
 Until the soul in music's spell is bound, 
 
 And life forgot, with all the care it brings ; 
 
 Then have I thought no greater art could be ; 
 Though I should live for ages, and should hear 
 The best that ever came to mortal ear, 
 
 No sounds more sweet would ever visit me. 
 And yet, dear heart, thy hand, love-taught, just now 
 Woke sweeter music laid upon my brow. 
 
 32
 
 Blue anto 
 
 LOVE'S ANSWER. 
 
 lips and hands Love answereth- 
 *T is ' aye ' and f aye ' and never ' nay. 
 How will it be some other day ? 
 
 What will Love's answer be to Death? 
 The same quick answer to the end, 
 
 For Love can see where we are blind 
 And knows that Death is only kind 
 To immortality a friend. 
 
 33
 
 Blue an* 
 
 CONSTANCY. 
 
 IF Age should set his finger on her brow 
 
 And write November on her May-day face; 
 
 Should rob her form of all its lovely grace, 
 And turn to silver locks so raven now; 
 Should dim her lustrous eyes and disallow 
 
 Her ears all hearing ; should destroy, efface, 
 
 All things that in her memory have place, 
 And so with life alone her frame endow, 
 I still would love her, still her servant be, 
 And strive to merit by my constancy 
 
 The place she gives me in her heart to-day. 
 
 To there abide in such a perfect way 
 A life of changeless love would leave to me 
 
 A debt to her which I could never pay. 
 
 34
 
 23Iue anfc 
 
 SONG. 
 
 MIGHT shadows o'er the earth are falling, 
 The birds their good-night carols calling, 
 The twinkling stars in heaven appearing 
 Have filled me with sweet thoughts endearing, 
 Dear love, of thee. 
 
 My heart, like night, o'er thee is brooding, 
 My thoughts in love songs are intruding, 
 Like stars my hopes in heaven are shining, 
 My heart, my thoughts, my hopes inclining, 
 Dear love, to thee. 
 
 The day will dawn, the stars will vanish ; 
 Be not the sun my hopes to banish ! 
 Be thou my day, my sweet to-morrow, 
 Bringing much joy and naught of sorrow, 
 Dear love, with thee. 
 
 35
 
 ant) (Soft. 
 
 WORDS FOE RUBINSTEIN'S MELODY. 
 
 ' T LOVE thee, I love thee,' my heart ever cries ; 
 'I love thee, I love thee,' thy true heart replies; 
 The days that divide us, oh, may they fly fast 
 And bring us together forever at last ! 
 The days that are gone I will never forget, 
 And may not the future hold sweeter ones yet? 
 
 Oh, sorrow be gone I 
 
 After night cometh dawn, 
 And loving thee, loving thee, what can befall? 
 Thy love like God's sunshine brighteneth all. 
 
 ' I love thee, I love thee,' to-morrows untold ; 
 'I love thee, I love thee/ will never grow old. 
 heart of my heart ! one brief moment with thee 
 And ages of sorrow forgotten would be ; 
 What bliss will be mine when the sad days have past 
 And we are together forever at last ! 
 
 Oh, sorrow be gone ! 
 
 After night cometh dawn, 
 And loving thee, loving thee, what can befall? 
 Thy love like God's sunshine brighteneth all. 
 
 36
 
 aitfc 
 
 IN MA YTIME. 
 
 CWEETHEART, my sweetheart forever! 
 \j * 
 
 Sweetheart, I'm thinking of you; 
 Springtime will never come, never, 
 
 But love will awaken anew. 
 The buds and the blossoms of Maytime 
 
 Are but the sweet signs of the joy 
 That fill me with dreams in the daytime 
 
 Dear visions I knew as a boy. 
 
 Sweetheart, the days that have gladdened 
 
 My heart with a rapture divine, 
 Sweeten the sorrows that saddened 
 
 Brief moments of your life and mine ; 
 And now, with the sun shining brightly, 
 
 And every wind stirring a joy, 
 I bless the tears fallen so lightly 
 
 They 've freshened the love of your boy. 
 
 37
 
 Blue auto 
 
 RHYME-BLOOM. 
 
 LI ERE 'S a blossom, lady mine, 
 
 Time can't change 'tis ever thine 
 Heat of summer, frost of fall, 
 Cannot wither seasons all 
 Keep its fragrance, color, pride, 
 Just for thee and none beside. 
 Take it, pray, and let it be 
 Emblem of my constancy. 
 
 When your heart is struck with grief 
 And the tears that bring relief 
 Fall upon this blossom, dear, 
 Fairer, fresher 'twill appear. 
 So my love would richer be 
 For a sorrow come to thee. 
 Try me, sweet, oh, test my heart ! 
 Know how dear to me thou art ! 
 
 "When with joy your heart doth bound 
 And you scatter sunshine round, 
 
 38
 
 Blue antj olti. 
 
 Light and warmth will then unfold 
 Sweeter sweets than ere were told. 
 Love like mine would only know 
 Full perfection loving so ; 
 Happiness would be your share 
 Whether winds were foul or fair.
 
 Blue anfc 
 
 RECOMPENSE. 
 
 A S some great tree that deeper, day by day, 
 Takes root into the earth some hardy oak 
 That firmer stands for every tempest stroke, 
 And grapples with huge rocks which bar its way, 
 Doth push abroad, into the winds that sway, 
 
 New branches and new buds, which suns provoke 
 To leaves of living green, until they cloak 
 Its trunk in beauty, and new strength display ; 
 
 So does the human soul, when torn with grief, 
 Grown stronger for the trial and the pain, 
 
 Reach out for truths that know not time nor 
 
 change, 
 
 And hold them fast, until they bring relief, 
 While hope and gladness blossom out again 
 In beauty new and wonderful and strange. 
 
 40
 
 BSlue ant @ott>. 
 
 IN SIGHT. 
 
 I ONG years, beloved, held us far apart ; 
 A waste of days, the goal beyond our sight, 
 We only knew by our firm faith in right, 
 
 That somehow, some day, bringing heart to heart, 
 
 Our ways would meet and nevermore would part, 
 And we would both be happy, bearing light 
 To make life's journey for each other bright, 
 
 And knowing balm to heal each burning smart. 
 
 But now, oh joy ! beloved, see the goal! 
 Behold the glory of that mountain peak ! 
 
 Ah, sweet, your eyes are lit with happy tears, 
 A light is in them laying bare your soul. . 
 A little while, dear love, and all we seek 
 
 Will then be ours, to crown the coming years.
 
 Blue an* 
 
 TRANSITION. 
 
 \A7ITH happy hands I formed a frame around 
 
 A dear sweet face, and gazed into the eyes 
 Their utmost hidden depths of hlue to sound, 
 
 In search of those sweet springs of paradise 
 Whereat the thirsting soul may satisfy 
 
 Itself in pools of light and love and life. 
 I thought I had discovered where do lie 
 
 Those secret fountains, still, unstirred hy strife, 
 
 When, suddenly, Death trailed her shadowy shroud : 
 My face grew grave and pale ; I loosed my hands, 
 
 And, looking in Love's face, where, like a cloud 
 Before the sun, stood Wonder, thought whose 
 bands 
 
 Would Death first loose, and prayed that hers first be 
 
 And she be spared the pain of mourning me. 
 
 42
 
 antJ 
 
 SEPTEMBER THE TWENTY-FIFTH. 
 
 DERHAPS in all this cruel changeful world 
 There may be some who hate this blessed day 
 Because it brought them terror and dismay, 
 
 Or from some seat of fortune found them hurled ; 
 
 Or some, with joy's bright banner closely furled, 
 May keep the day in sadness, giving way 
 To grievous tears, that burn as deep to-day 
 
 As when from sorrow's source they first were whirled . 
 
 Oh, you that hate the day, and speak it ill, 
 Be sure it brought a gem beyond all price ; 
 
 And you who weep, uncomforted, be still, 
 An angel came this day from paradise: 
 
 Upon this day my dearest love was born, 
 
 The rarest jewel day hath ever worn. 
 
 43
 
 35ltte ant) (So It. 
 
 ^4 SUMMER MORNING. 
 
 A SKY of blue with white sails set 
 
 To stay the soft south wind ; 
 A carpet green, that treasures yet 
 The gems Night left behind. 
 
 A bird has lit on yonder bough : 
 She scolds her mate, who sings 
 
 Anew each tender sacred vow, 
 And tells the love he brings. 
 
 Upon a grassy knoll I lie, 
 The green leaves swing in glee ; 
 
 Far down the east the gentle sky 
 Presses the waves toward me. 
 
 44
 
 Blue anfc 
 
 VACATION. 
 
 LJAPPY the days that Summer's lap doth hold, 
 The idle days, the days that pass like dreams, 
 Leaving no trace, or trace so faint it seems 
 
 No more enduring than the message told 
 
 By marks upon a heach by breakers rolled ; 
 The past is lost, the future only gleams 
 Far-distant, silvern, like the moon's pale beams, 
 
 To check ambition with its temperate cold. 
 
 Only the present lives vacation-time, 
 
 The wheeling shade, the unconstant breeze, the 
 
 sun, 
 And time to weave some fancy into rhyme 
 
 So swiftly days their silent courses run ! 
 And when, at last, these dear delights depart, 
 Lo ! strength has come to arm and brain and heart. 
 
 45
 
 antJ 
 
 LITTLE TRAVERSE BAY. 
 
 P\ BAREST to me of all these inland seas 
 Art thou, great Michigan. Thy bosom bears 
 Perpetual grandeur. Every hour prepares 
 
 New glories for the recompense of these 
 
 That follow close the footsteps of the breeze, 
 And loss is gain, for nothing past compares 
 With thy dear present in such equal shares 
 
 Dost thou reveal thy countless treasuries. 
 
 Before me now thy greens and purples show, 
 Dissolving bands that reach from shore to shore ; 
 
 Thy wide expanse is flecked as if with snow 
 
 That melts at once yet seems to come the more ; 
 
 The waves roll in and stretch their arms to reach 
 
 The restless sands upon the wind-blown beach. 
 
 46
 
 Blue anli <oU. 
 
 PROFESSOR DAVID SWING. 
 
 CRIEND of the world he was; no living thing 
 But knew his love ; God's sunshine in his heart 
 Made it a place of heaven the counterpart 
 
 Where greatest souls their highest thoughts might 
 bring, 
 
 Or even the lowly cricket chirp and sing, 
 Assured of welcome ; for he knew the art 
 Of nature, felt the greening grass-blade start, 
 
 And heralded the advent of the spring. 
 
 Now he is gone, the friend of art and song, 
 Who loved the earth, the air, the sea, the sky; 
 Whose faith in God and in his brother man 
 Will make his name to be remembered long. 
 
 Like men of old he spake. His light, held high, 
 Made white the pathway wheresoe'er he ran.
 
 Blue anti 
 
 THE COUNTRY SCHOOL. 
 
 AT this old desk some rugged urchin sat 
 
 To learn his letters and such words as ' cat '; 
 His sun-browned feet were bare upon the floor, 
 Which knew no polish save such smoothing o'er 
 As twenty pairs of restless feet may give 
 While wisdom wriggles through each tousled sieve. 
 Perchance the master was some cultured man 
 Whose mind, though mighty, had not solved God's 
 
 plan 
 
 To raise him from this humble, tiresome trust 
 To one all conflict, glory, heat, and dust, 
 Some future Garfield to attract the eye 
 By great achievements, and at last to die 
 Mourned by his country; or some struggling soul 
 Who through this gate must pass to reach his goal 
 Who lived unconscious of the pent-up song 
 His lips would utter to be treasured long. 
 
 Through open windows hear the drowsy hum 
 Of insects, now that balmy June has come. 
 
 48
 
 anti 
 
 Soft winds are stirring, and the fearless fty 
 
 Has just begun his pestering ways to try. 
 
 The lessons lag, and restless hands and feet 
 
 Find idle pastime on the floor and seat; 
 
 And now the master's face turns toward the wall ; 
 
 His glance is followed by the eyes of all; 
 
 The clock, persistent, slow, but ever sure, 
 
 Will soon release the bonds they now endure, 
 
 And down the dusty lane and over field 
 
 Will lad and lass go loitering, till the yield 
 
 Of sunshine lessens and long shadows fall 
 
 And milking-time and supper homeward call. 
 
 And now 'tis winter, and the tingling air 
 Upon each window makes frost-tracings rare. 
 The wood-box bursts beneath the stored-up heat ; 
 The round stove glows, and forty snow-wet feet 
 Are drying, and the little room is full 
 Of odors of burned leather and steamed wool. 
 Along the wall, after each one is wrung, 
 Are rows of leggings, mittens, tippets hung. 
 The promised pleasure of a ' spelling bee ' 
 Will make to-day a day of jollity.
 
 Blue anto 
 
 SLEEP. 
 
 C LEEP is a mystic river no mortal eye hath seen, 
 With poppy flowers are nodding the banks it 
 
 flows between; 
 It finds its source in silence where stars together 
 
 sing, 
 And down to weary mortals the message hastes to 
 
 bring. 
 
 The boats upon its bosom, that float, an idle throng, 
 Are dreams that to the rainbow or to the moon 
 
 belong ; 
 They 're drifting toward the harbor outside the port 
 
 of day 
 Where morning light will scatter each vision barque 
 
 away. 
 
 60
 
 Blue anti 
 
 IN DREAMLAND. 
 
 LJUSH-A-BY, baby, close thine eyes, 
 
 Mother will sing sweet lullabies ; 
 Softly the cradle will be rocked 
 Till pretty eyelids sleep as locked, 
 And you are away in Dreamland, 
 In Dreamland. 
 
 Hush-a-by, little one, daylight dies 
 While I am singing lullabies. 
 Where doe^ it vanish, baby dear? 
 Into that land so far, so near, 
 
 The land of sleep, called Dreamland, 
 Called Dreamland. 
 
 Hush-a-by, babe. What dims mine eyes 
 While I am singing lullabies? 
 What if the darkness knew no day ! 
 What if my darling stayed away 
 To evermore dwell in Dreamland, 
 In Dreamland ! 
 
 51
 
 Blue anb 
 
 SPANISH LULLABY. 
 
 (A. D. 1493.) 
 
 pRETTY, my Pedro, a bird of the sea 
 Long ago brought a sweet message to me 
 The waters are ever repeating: 
 'Sweetheart,' they're saying, 'a beautiful land 
 Westward is waiting a queen to command ; 
 . From thither your lover sends greeting ! ' 
 
 Pretty, my Pedro, your father unfurled 
 Sail with Columbus to find a new world 
 
 Afar where the sunset is glowing. 
 Then I was fearful the future to scan; 
 Now I am hopeful with you, little man, 
 
 And visions of promise are growing. 
 
 Pretty, my Pedro, your sails, too, are set: 
 Sleep, the Good Master, will guide you, my pet, 
 
 To realms of beautiful splendor. 
 Sure as your waking his coming will be, 
 Father to you, sweet, and husband to me, 
 
 And lover so true and so tender. 
 
 52
 
 i3Iue anti do. 
 
 SWINGING TO DREAMLAND. 
 
 C WING, baby, swing to Dreamland ; 
 
 There, sweet, in slumber go ; 
 My song will blend in seemland 
 
 With songs the angels know ; 
 Thy hammock will be golden 
 
 And like the crescent moon, 
 And in its hollow holden 
 
 Thou wilt be sailing soon. 
 
 Go swinging, swaying, swinging, 
 
 High up among the stars ; 
 At mother's wish upspringing 
 
 Shall sleep let down the bars ; 
 Although thy hammock golden 
 
 Is like the crescent moon, 
 Thou wilt, in my arms holden, 
 
 Wake bright and laughing soon. 
 
 53
 
 Blue anli 
 
 MOTHER, MOON, AND STABS. 
 
 'THE moon is bending o'er the sea, 
 
 As I, my babe, bend over thee; 
 She rocks it gently to and fro, 
 As I now rock you so, and so; 
 The wind, her breath, sings softly, ' Dear 
 Sleep sweetly now, for I am near.' 
 
 The stars look down upon the lea, 
 As I, my babe, look down on thee ; 
 The earth 's at rest ; they vigils keep, 
 As I watch o'er thy peaceful sleep, 
 And through the silence I can hear, 
 'Sleep sweetly now, for we are near.' 
 
 54
 
 Blue ant 
 
 HEIGH-HO! MY LADDIE, Of 
 
 J-JEIGH - HO ! my laddie, O ! 
 
 'Tis bedtime now for dearie; 
 By-lo ! away we go 
 
 To rest the limbs so weary. 
 At last my boy grows tired of play 
 That fills with joy the live-long day, 
 And welcomes night when shadows gray 
 From the underworld come stealing. 
 
 Heigh-ho ! my laddie, O ! 
 
 The stars a watch are keeping ; 
 By-lo ! they 're shining so 
 
 To guard my boy while sleeping. 
 And soon, relit, the world all new, 
 With skies to match your eyes of blue, 
 Another day will dawn for you, 
 Every hour new joys revealing. 
 
 56
 
 SUPPOSE. 
 
 C UPPOSE you were reading some wonderful tome 
 
 That led you way back in the past, 
 Till with feasting and fighting in Athens or Rome 
 
 You 'd forget in what age you were cast ; 
 Suppose while thus 'busy' you heard a wee voice 
 
 And felt a small hand on your knee, 
 Would the world of the present or past be your choice 
 
 At the sound of that little 'take me'? 
 Oh, come now ! Be honest ! What would you do ? 
 You 'd ( take ' Tiny Toddler and hug him to you. 
 
 Suppose you had been in the city all day, 
 
 In the trouble and turmoil of trade, 
 Till your brain was so weary you felt the dismay 
 
 Of an overtaxed surface-car jade ; 
 Suppose you were smoking and taking your ease, 
 
 And in should come little Boy Blue 
 To ' play horsey ' with papa, and ' wouldn't he please 
 
 To kick up' and such antics go through? 
 Oh, come now ! Be honest ! What would you do ? 
 You'd prance and 'play horsey' with little Boy 
 
 Blue! 
 
 56
 
 Blue antj 
 
 Suppose you were thinking of serious things, 
 
 Of questions mortality asks, 
 Till life, with the problems perplexing it brings, 
 
 Seemed a round of impossible tasks ; 
 Suppose while thus puzzled, a frown on your brow 
 
 And your face looking solemn and grim, 
 Little laddie insists you shall be a ' bow-wow ' 
 
 Or sing < Hey, diddle, diddle ! ' to him ! 
 Oh, come now ! Be honest ! What would you do ? 
 You 'd ' bark ' or recite Mother Goose, would n't you ?
 
 Blue ant 
 
 MY RIVAL. 
 
 LJER heart was all mine until he came along, 
 
 My rival, the hero of this little song. 
 With so much against him I marvel that he 
 For even a moment can dispossess me. 
 He is not so tall by some inches (my height 
 For a number of years has been her delight), 
 Has never the sign of a beard on his chin 
 And the hair on his head is decidedly thin; 
 Yet, the very first time she saw him, she said, 
 'The darling, I love him ! ' and tears for joy shed. 
 
 His eyes they are blue, and blue eyes in a man 
 She detests as only a good woman can ; 
 Regarding his teeth, about them the less said 
 The better he has not a tooth in his head! 
 He not only chews gum but chews gums, which is 
 
 worse, 
 
 A sin she abhors as a positive curse. 
 My rival? I smiled a ridiculous thought! 
 And into her presence the strange prince brought, 
 And the very first moment she saw him she said, 
 ' The darling, I love him ! ' and tears for joy shed. 
 
 98
 
 23lue anU oft. 
 
 My rival ! Believe me, I love him full well 
 Or defects in his make-up I never would tell. 
 The place he has taken I want him to keep, 
 Close, close to her heart ! Hear her sing him to 
 
 sleep ! 
 
 And yet, notwithstanding, I want you to know 
 He 's a rival unrivaled. Go search high and low 
 (Don't look in your cradle for any such joy) 
 And find if you can such a sweet baby boy. 
 No wonder the moment she saw him she said, 
 'The darling, I love him ! ' and tears for joy shed
 
 Blue anfc 
 
 DORCHESTER AND DOROTHY. 
 
 nORCHESTER, Dorothy, lad and lass, 
 Brother and sister, it came to pass, 
 
 Never each other knew; 
 
 Lassie is five years, while laddie 'd be seven 
 One upon earth and the other in heaven, 
 
 So these children grew. 
 
 Dorothy, Dorchester (sweetest of names) 
 Never together played pretty games, 
 
 Dorothy plays them alone. 
 
 She does not miss him ; she could n't, you know. 
 But mother, who watches her, misses him so 
 
 Longs for her little 'my own!' 
 
 Dorchester, Dorothy ! Many the night 
 Both in her arms have been folded tight, 
 
 Sung to and put into bed. 
 Only the one ! She knows there are two 
 Mother-love truly such wonders can do ! 
 
 Dorchester seemeth not dead. 
 
 60
 
 Blue anto 
 
 Dorothy, Dorchester, always, I know, 
 Side by side in her heart do grow, 
 
 Giving her heart a joy ; 
 But first to awaken a love divine, 
 First to make sorrow a friend benign, 
 
 First in her heart is her boy.
 
 Blue anfc 
 
 CHRISTMAS IS COMING. 
 
 QHRISTM AS is coming! Oh, my! Oh, my! 
 Look out, little man, do n't cry ! Do n't cry ! 
 
 For Santa Glaus loveth a brave little boy, 
 
 And surely remembers all such with a toy 
 Or a game or a book 
 Or a long candy crook 
 
 Never mind if your tumble did hurt, don't cry! 
 
 Christmas is coming, and my little lad 
 Will forget every troublesome bump he has had! 
 It bringeth a balm for each bruise, and the smart 
 Of the saddest of griefs for the time will depart. 
 
 The joy of the bells 
 
 In each bosom swells, 
 For the goodness of giving makes every heart glad. 
 
 Yes, Christmas is coming! That wonderful day 
 The children delight in is not far away. 
 
 62
 
 Blue ant) 
 
 Then candies and cookies and wagons and sleds, 
 And jumping-jacks, whistles, and dolls' little beds 
 Are scattered abroad, 
 And the children applaud 
 Each treasure from Santa Glaus' wonderful sleigh. 
 
 63
 
 Blue an* 
 
 MOTHER GOOSE. 
 
 'THERE 'S a book we all know and can quote by 
 the page, 
 
 No other book stands in its place ; 
 In childhood, in manhood, in youth, and in age, 
 
 Its jingling wisdom we trace. 
 'Tis a book that we love (you'll do well to confess) 
 
 No matter what others we use, 
 And its title is what? Now couldn't you guess? 
 
 Of course ! It is old Mother Goose. 
 
 The first time you read it you skipped all the words, 
 
 The pictures alone took your eye ; 
 Those wonderful pictures of beasts and of birds, 
 
 Of creatures that crawl, walk, or fly ; 
 You cared not a bit for the wisdom and wit, 
 
 Nor detected the rhyming was loose 
 On the floor by the hour you would silently sit 
 
 Enchanted by dear Mother Goose. 
 
 There was Old King Cole, the merry old soul, 
 And Miss Muff et with curds and whey ; 
 
 64
 
 ant) 
 
 The men who went sailing the sea in a bowl, 
 
 And the lady-bug idling away ; 
 There was Little Boy Blue, and Jack Homer too, 
 
 And Miss Flinders who suffered abuse ; 
 And the birds in the pie, and Cry, Baby, Cry 
 
 They 're still living in good Mother Goose. 
 
 Mother Goose does not rank very high in the list 
 
 Of best books oh, give her a prop ! 
 Come help me to maintain her claims to insist 
 
 That she 's given a place near the top. 
 There may be some better (how many are worse !) 
 
 Her maligners will cry for a truce 
 If we take up her standard and stoutly rehearse 
 
 The glories of good Mother Goose.
 
 anfc 
 
 GRANDMOTHER'S SWEETHEART. 
 
 QRANDMOTHER'S sweetheart, here ia a line 
 
 She sendeth thee for a valentine. 
 Loving thee more than her heart can tell 
 (I wonder if you love her so well ? ) 
 With every letter she sends a kiss. 
 Her eyes grow dim while she's writing this, 
 For, Sweetheart Fanny, you must know 
 It inaketh the heart ache loving so. 
 
 Grandmother's sweetheart liveth afar 
 Down by the bay where the big ships are, 
 And never a ship does grandmother see 
 But beareth her message of love to thee. 
 The whole great wonderful fleet of ships 
 That lie at rest in their quiet slips, 
 With their caverns and caves of space all told 
 The love that she bears thee could not hold. 
 
 So, Sweetheart Fanny, a little while 
 Grandmother's love on thee will smile ;
 
 Blue antj olti. 
 
 Then, drifting out on an unknown sea, 
 In the great beyond she will wait for thee. 
 And others will come and praise your eyes, 
 And tell their love with a million sighs ; 
 But never a one of them all will know 
 A deeper love than her heart can show. 
 
 (57
 
 Blue antJ 
 
 RHYME OF THE COVERLET. 
 
 J^OCKABY, rockaby, 
 Winter 's in town 
 Cover the baby up warm. 
 
 Under a drift of white wool soft as down 
 What will he know of the storm ? 
 
 Rockaby, rockaby, 
 
 Springtime is near. 
 When baby goeth to sleep 
 
 Under this blossomy coverlet, dear, 
 Let not a chill wind creep. 
 
 Rockaby, rockaby, 
 
 Summer unbars 
 Cover the baby aright. 
 
 Under a canopy sprinkled with stars 
 What will he know of the night ? 
 
 Rockaby, rockaby, 
 
 Autumn is bold 
 Cover him up like a king : 
 
 Robes of purple and cloth of gold ; 
 Tribute and service bring. 
 
 68
 
 Blue anli oil). 
 
 TICK- TOOK L ULLAB Y. 
 
 'THERE 'S a little tired shoe and a little mussed 
 frock, 
 
 Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, 
 And there on the floor lies a little limp sock, 
 
 Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock; 
 They're glad, I am sure, after going all day, 
 To rest from the labor and pleasure of play, 
 
 Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. 
 
 How quietly sleep comes count the clock ! 
 
 Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, . 
 Comes in at the door with never a knock, 
 
 Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, 
 With no one to greet him, welcomest guest! 
 He enters and giveth his dear ones rest, 
 
 Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. 
 
 Perhaps he is near us while we rock, 
 
 Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, 
 And soon will disclose his wonderful stock, 
 
 Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, 
 In exchange for thy store of weariness, 
 His bag of dreams he will leave, I guess, 
 
 Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.
 
 ant 
 
 NAUTICAL NED. 
 
 T SING of a toddling mariner chap, 
 
 With wide flowing trousers and sailor's cap; 
 His little warm jacket, with buttons and braid, 
 Bespeaks the bold rover to run a blockade. 
 No longer miscall him when all has been said, 
 His name is not Edward, but Nautical Ned; 
 A wee little, free little fellow is he, 
 And yet he 's a regular man of the sea. 
 
 I question if ever he walked a ship's deck, 
 Or felt the salt spray on his cheek or his neck ; 
 And surely those blue eyes never have scanned 
 The far-off horizon for long-looked-for land. 
 What odds if never the sea he has crossed, 
 In a tub of a boat been rudely tossed ? 
 He tosses the sea in a tub of his own, 
 While the waves dash high and the women make 
 moan! 
 
 The most wonderful cruiser ever afloat 
 
 Is the world she is truly a marvellous boat! 
 
 7:
 
 ant) 
 
 And sailing out on the sea of Time, 
 
 So tempest-tossed, to another clime, 
 
 It is sweet to think that such sailors are 
 
 As Nautical Ned, the jolly young tar! 
 
 With the great, good Captain, and such as these, 
 
 Who cares for the wind-swept stormy seas?
 
 Blue an* (olli. 
 
 LITTLE ELIZABETH. 
 
 I ITTLE Elizabeth, how shall I say 
 
 The joy you put in my heart one day 
 When I was in Gotham, a thousand miles 
 From home and the light of my dear one's smiles? 
 Your cherub face with the winsome eyes 
 At first was full of a shy surprise, 
 But soon you gave me your heart, and then 
 I was here at home with Boy Blue again. 
 
 Little Elizabeth, do you know 
 
 (You surely will when you older grow) 
 
 How lonely it is when one is away 
 
 A month, a week, or a single day, 
 
 From those who love us and whom we love? 
 
 And how we welcome, all else above, 
 
 A face, a hand-touch, a tone of voice 
 
 That takes us home where our hearts rejoice? 
 
 Little Elizabeth, motherless child, 
 I wonder if she is reconciled?
 
 ami 
 
 I wonder if mothers, when they die, 
 
 Look down on their loved ones from on high? 
 
 Perhaps, in walking the streets of gold, 
 
 A little child she may behold 
 
 And fold it close to her heart, and then 
 
 Be at home on earth with her babe again.
 
 ant oft. 
 
 ALONE WITH 'THE BABY. 
 
 A LONE with the baby one whole day, 
 
 So mama may go to the Fair. 
 Papa and Rowland! What did you say? 
 
 Afraid we '11 be lonesome ? Do n't care ! 
 All day together. My, what fun ! 
 The day will be done 
 Before it 's begun, 
 For Rowland and I are a pair! 
 
 I Ve a ' list ' in my pocket of what I 'm to do, 
 
 And I notice some moments to spare. 
 I like to take care of the baby, don't you? 
 
 I 'd rather than go to the Fair. 
 I tell you the baby and I will have fun ! 
 The day will be done 
 Before it 's begun, 
 For Rowland and I are a pair ! 
 
 When ten o'clock comes I 'm to give him a drink 
 From ' the glass on the bureau ' right there, 
 
 At eleven the broth, oh, help me to think ! 
 And a < gem ' so my orders declare. 
 
 74
 
 Blue anU (Belli. 
 
 When he's hungry I'll feed him ! What glorious fun ! 
 The day will be done 
 Before it's begun, 
 For Rowland and I are a pair ! 
 
 At twelve we go riding he '11 be < in the push,' 
 
 Which I '11 push with the greatest of care ; 
 At one I 'm to sing to him < Hush-a-By, Hush ! ' 
 
 Until dream visions float in the air. 
 When he 's sleepy I '11 sing him to sleep ! More fun ? 
 The day will be done 
 Before it 's begun, 
 For Rowland and I are a pair ! 
 
 At two but, good gracious ! you need not expect 
 
 More details of this little affair ; 
 The youngster 's awake, if I 'm not incorrect, 
 
 To begin the good time we 're to share. 
 I hope Ms ideas are like mine about fun ! 
 Before it 's begun 
 I wish the day done 
 Although we 're so much of a pair !
 
 ant) oft. 
 
 SWINGING SONG. 
 
 A HAMMOCK gently swinging, 
 
 A mother bends above ; 
 She to her babe is singing 
 
 With heart all full of love. 
 The little maiden swaying 
 
 Beneath the greenwood tree 
 Has set her heart to saying, 
 ' Love me as I love thee.' 
 
 So swaying, swinging slowly, 
 Her loved one to and fro, 
 Her heart with rapture holy 
 Out to her babe doth go ; 
 And while her thoughts are straying 
 
 Among the days to be, 
 Her heart is ever saying, 
 ' Love me as I love thee.' 
 
 Another hammock swinging, 
 
 A lover bends above, 
 He to his sweetheart singing 
 
 With heart all full of love ; 
 
 76
 
 anto 
 
 The lovely maiden swaying 
 
 Beneath the greenwood tree 
 Has set his heart to saying, 
 ' Love me as I love thee.' 
 So swaying, swinging slowly 
 His loved one to and fro, 
 His heart with rapture holy 
 
 Out to his love doth go ; 
 And while his thoughts are straying 
 
 Among the days to be, 
 His heart is ever saying, 
 ' Love me as I love thee.' 
 
 77
 
 Blue antj 
 
 STUMBLE TOE. 
 
 JOOK out, little toy ! Wherever you go 
 Remember the story of Stumble Toe. 
 
 There once was a dear little child (ah, me ! ) 
 And he had ten toes that were straight as could be, 
 And every one was pink and white 
 Where mother had kissed it morning and night ; 
 And each little toe had a name (oh, woe ! ) 
 And one had the name of Stumble Toe. 
 
 Now one little toe was called Hippity Hop, 
 And he 'd run till the others would beg him to stop ; 
 Another toe answered to Creepity Creep, 
 And he never was still except when asleep ; 
 And so on was christened each one in the row 
 Till you came to the awkward Stumble Toe. 
 
 Oh, he was as stubborn as stubborn could be ! 
 And he sulked till a trial and cross was he. 
 A whipping at morning, a spanking at night, 
 Were never enough to keep Stumble Toe right ; 
 Till at last came disaster and tearful woe 
 To crown the behavior of Stumble Toe. 
 
 78
 
 Blue anU otto. 
 
 The best of good children (oh, but it 's sad ! 
 Are sometimes quite naughty, although not real bad ; 
 Their feet get so heavy they drag on the floor 
 (And when they act that way they need one spank 
 
 more 
 'Tis when they are naughty, some times, don't you 
 
 know) 
 And they 're taken advantage of by Stumble Toe. 
 
 Just how it was done I could never recall ; 
 
 I distinctly remember a terrible fall, 
 
 And a bump on the forehead, a bruise on the arm, 
 
 And my heart standing still in fearful alarm. 
 
 So look out, my darling ; wherever you go 
 
 Remember the story of Stumble Toe. 
 
 79
 
 ant) 
 
 THE WIND'S SONG IN THE 
 < TREE-TOP: * 
 
 J-JERE in the Tree- Top rest awhile, 
 And hark to the wind that brings, 
 
 From over the bay, far, far away, 
 The song it so sweetly sings. 
 
 TO A BABE. 
 
 I dipped my wing in the green-gray sea, 
 The drops I scatter are pearls to thee; 
 And each white pearl is dream on dream, 
 For each is a drop of the slumber stream. 
 
 And over and over I 've kissed the clover, 
 And kissed the dew ; a world-wide rover, 
 From mountain and valley all sweets I bring 
 To bless thy dreams while slumbering. 
 
 Then sleep in the Tree-Top, baby mine ; 
 Close those big brown eyes of thine. 
 The clover bloom and the dream-pearl's spell 
 I sing, my love, and all is well. 
 
 * A summer cottage overlooking Little Traverse Bay. 
 80
 
 Blue anb <0ttJ. 
 
 The wind in the Tree-Top ever sings, 
 
 And this is another song; 
 A stronger stave from over the wave 
 
 For the boy with the curls so long. 
 
 TO A CHILD. 
 
 Hurrah for the lad 
 
 In breeches clad, 
 And a blouse like a sailor-man ! 
 
 The boy for me 
 
 Is such as he, 
 I will give him a coat of tan ! 
 
 How the ribbons flap 
 
 On his sailor's cap 
 As if they would blow away ! 
 
 His curly head 
 
 Looks well in bed, 
 I will give him a nap each day. 
 
 He's never afraid 
 
 Of man or maid, 
 In that he is just like me. 
 
 The water moans 
 
 When he throws in stones, 
 We are one when he smites the sea. 
 
 81
 
 ant) (Holt. 
 
 So hurrah for the lad 
 
 In hreeches clad, 
 And a blouse like a sailor true! 
 
 He 's brave, he 's free, 
 
 He resembles me 
 I love him enough for two. 
 
 A rollicking song ivas that just heard, 
 Here 's one in a different key ; 
 
 Of beautiful days now wrapped in haze 
 A song of the days to be. 
 
 TO A YOUTH. 
 
 I fill the sails of wonderful boats, 
 I hurry them on, I hurry them on ; 
 
 And many a beautiful banner floats 
 As I go wandering hither and yon ; 
 
 The birds of paradise pour their throats, 
 
 And fill the air with ravishing notes, 
 Till all of the present is gone. 
 
 The gilded clouds away in the west 
 
 I bear along, I bear along ; 
 The silver moon I rock to rest 
 
 And send the moonlight with my song ; 
 
 82
 
 iSlue anti 
 
 And all of the heart's desires the best 
 I waft to thee in the Tree-Top nest 
 For all to youth belong. 
 
 youth, sweet youth, with wondering eyes, 
 
 I bid you see, I bid you see ; 
 For all of the future is your prize, 
 
 And all good things may come to thee ; 
 The sunset cloud, the boat that flies, , 
 The songs of the birds of paradise, 
 
 All, all are yours to be. 
 
 And once again I pray give ear 
 To a song that shall blend in one 
 
 The future, the past, the present. At last 
 The song of the wind is done. 
 
 TO A FATHER AND A MOTHER. 
 
 Here in the Tree-Top, blessed days 
 Shall come to thee and thine; 
 
 Hither returning, various ways 
 Shall into one way twine. 
 
 Summers of gladness, untold joys, 
 Beneath this roof you '11 find ; 
 
 83
 
 ant 
 
 Facing the future with your boys 
 Nothing shall prove unkind. 
 
 Ever the present will be blest, 
 
 Ever the past unfold 
 Beauty to fill that place in the nest 
 
 That is hers of the heart of gold. 
 
 84
 
 33lu* anli 
 
 DREAMING AND DOING. 
 
 P\ REAMING is pleasant, I know, my boy, 
 
 Dreaming is pleasant, I know. 
 To dream of that wonderful, far-off day 
 When you '11 be a man and have only to say, 
 To this one and that one, Do that and do this, 
 While your wishes fulfilment never shall miss, 
 May fill you with pleasure ; but deeper the joy 
 Of doing a thing yourself, my boy 
 Of doing a thing yourself. 
 
 Dreaming is pleasant, I know, my girl, 
 
 Dreaming is pleasant, I know. 
 
 To dream of that far-off, wonderful day 
 
 When you '11 be a queen and hold full sway 
 
 Over hearts that are loyal and kind and just, 
 
 While your sweet ' If you please ' will mean ' You 
 
 must ! ' 
 May fill you with joy ; but you '11 find pleasure's 
 
 pearl 
 
 In doing for others yourself, my girl 
 In doing for others yourself. 
 
 85
 
 33lue anli oil). 
 
 SUBURBAN SILHOUETTES. 
 
 A BALLADE OF COOPERATIVE 
 COOKING. 
 
 "THE cooperative cooking craze, 
 Which now so many deprecate, 
 
 Perhaps in future happy days 
 The world at large will emulate : 
 Then how we will congratulate 
 
 The few who boldly took the lead 
 In cooking to cooperate 
 
 The dames who made the old recede. 
 
 If time shall prove our present ways 
 
 Are direful and degenerate, 
 And subject to the dreadful maze 
 
 Of Bridget-wranglings intricate, 
 
 With very much to agitate 
 And tease our wives beyond their meed,- 
 
 Then how we will commemorate 
 The dames who made the old recede. 
 
 87
 
 Blue anto 
 
 The grocer, milkman, butcher, strays 
 
 Into our kitchens desolate, 
 Where neither 'flame* nor friendly blaze 
 
 Will welcome him affectionate. 
 
 We '11 only hope and pray that fate 
 Will send the meal we sadly need, 
 
 And, if it tarries, imprecate 
 The dames who made the old recede. 
 
 Envoy. 
 
 On them we, smiling, turn to gaze, 
 
 And put small faith in their new creed; 
 
 Mayhap ere long we '11 stop to praise 
 The dames who made the old recede.
 
 Blue anto 
 
 THE DOCTOR'S RIDE. 
 
 THE Doctor loves a thoroughbred, 
 
 A thoroughbred has he, 
 And he can ride a thoroughbred 
 In a manner masterly. 
 
 It was a day in early spring 
 
 When the sun shone bright and fair, 
 And the birds were blithely carolling 
 
 And flitting here and there. 
 
 His steed stood ready at the door, 
 
 And pawed impatiently ; 
 A moment more and medic lore 
 
 Was banished utterly. 
 
 Down Davis street the mare and man 
 
 A gentle journey made 
 To the road named after Sheridan, 
 
 Then northward they essayed. 
 
 The boat-house quickly fell behind ; 
 The house where the Bogerts dwell; 
 
 89
 
 23lue anli 
 
 < Our Neighbor's Fence ' and the Doctor's sense 
 Then dropped behind as well. 
 
 The thoroughbred was taking ' head,' 
 
 The Doctor had to go ; 
 Memorial Hall and the lighthouse tall 
 
 Now to the southward show. 
 
 Along the Ridge, on toward Wilmette, 
 
 As though to win a race 
 They passed the bluffs, nor even yet 
 
 Could the Doctor slacken pace. 
 
 The roads were fine and the day was fair, 
 
 And the balmy breezes fanned 
 The flanks of the mare, and the Doctor's hair 
 
 And his good face weather-tanned. 
 
 On, on they sped, the thoroughbred 
 
 And the Doctor dreamily; 
 When night came down, through many a town 
 
 They 'd fled full furiously. 
 
 In the Queen's domain were seen the twain, 
 The man and the galloping mare, 
 
 And many a day did pass away 
 Ere his patients knew his care. 
 
 90
 
 Blue anlJ 
 
 'Tis strange but true, how the story grew 
 
 That the Doctor south had been, 
 To idly rove in an orange grove 
 To me 'tis all 'too thin.' 
 
 But truth will out, and what I shout 
 
 Who is there to deny ? 
 Oh, Mann, beware when next your mare 
 
 Desires with you to fly ! 
 
 91
 
 THE FROG POND. 
 
 THERE are places in our village which delight 
 the loving eye 
 
 Of the resident or stranger who is merely passing by ; 
 
 Such for instance are the campus, and the lake shore, 
 and the parks, 
 
 Where moonless nights in summertime show myr- 
 iads of 'sparks.' 
 
 But the place before all others that 's entitled to the 
 ' cake ' 
 
 Is the frog pond by the railroad track where Sher- 
 man crosses Lake. 
 
 Would you see it in its beauty, hear its swelling 
 
 inmates croak 
 Till you 'd think their apparatuses would every one 
 
 be broke, 
 Just visit it in springtime, when the rains have filled 
 
 it full 
 And listen to the bellowings of the boisterous Mr. 
 
 Bull
 
 Blue anfc 
 
 The sound is something solemn, and enough to make 
 you quake 
 
 As it rises from the frog pond near where Sher- 
 man crosses Lake. 
 
 Doc Webster's gentle Jersey cow at times we 've 
 chanced to see 
 
 Made fast by several yards of rope to a neighboring 
 willow tree, 
 
 And we have wished her bigger, with an awful love 
 for drink, 
 
 Which might result in mortals being given time to 
 think, 
 
 For then she'd soon relieve us, when she sought 
 her thirst to slake, 
 
 Of the frog pond by the railroad track where Sher- 
 man crosses Lake. 
 
 93
 
 Blue atrtj (Solo. 
 
 THE FEM. SEM. GIRL. 
 
 THE society girl with mind in a whirl 
 
 Who thinks but of tennis and ' hops,' 
 The mythical miss who refuses a kiss 
 
 Because it is naughty, and stops, 
 The much-afraid maid who sits in the shade 
 
 For fear she will freckle and tan, 
 Are not in the race for third or fourth place, 
 
 The Fern. Sem. is the girl for a man. 
 
 No dandified dude would dare to intrude 
 
 Where his manners would surely be ' guyed '; 
 No clodhopper clown but could fathom her frown 
 
 Which surely to him were applied ; 
 No self-esteemed chump with an oversized bump 
 
 Of conceit, but would shrink at her plan 
 Of making it known to what size it had grown 
 
 The Fern. Sem. is the girl for a man. 
 
 Yes, the charming Fern. Sem. (there are many of 
 
 them) 
 Is a girl whom a man may adore ; 
 
 94
 
 Blue ano (goto. 
 
 Her knowledge of books has not spoiled her good 
 looks 
 
 For she 's nurtured in womanly lore ; 
 To bask in her smile is surely worth while, 
 
 And blest are the mortals who can ; 
 She is good, she is fair, and again we declare 
 
 The Fern. Sena, is the girl for a man. 
 
 95
 
 Blue ant 
 
 LINDY. 
 
 THARE wa 'n't no reason I could see, 
 
 Why Lindy had n't ort to be 
 The happiest gal 'at ever set 
 Afore a mirror. Why, I bet 
 She 's got more gowns 'an she could wear, 
 An' change 'em daily, till the Fair 
 Of nineteen hundred ninety-three 
 Leastwise so it 'peared to me. 
 
 A span o' bosses, fit to haul 
 The queen, is waitin' at her call, 
 An' 'bout a dozen kinds o' rigs 
 The funniest is them two-wheeled gigs, 
 An' footmen, when she sends 'em, scoot 
 An' do theyr best her whims to suit. 
 But with all this she seems to lack 
 The happy look she had way back. 
 
 That house o' hern ! Well, I '11 be blest 
 If it ain't jest about the best 
 
 96
 
 anlJ <olo. 
 
 'At ever I set my foot in ! 
 No use fer my tongue to begin 
 To spell out sech a awful stack 
 O' furniture an' brickybrack. 
 Thare's everythin' 'at you can guess 
 Would go fer makin' happiness. 
 
 Thare's books an' pictures till my eyes 
 Was tired o' lookin' with surprise. 
 When Lindy told me what they cost 
 I thought her senses must be lost ! 
 But when she turned, her eyes all sad, 
 An' like she ust ter, called me ' Dad,' 
 An' put her hand in mine, I knew 
 'At what our Lindy said was true. 
 
 An' when nex' day she told me how 
 She felt so kind o' lonesome now, 
 An' took his little picture out 
 The baby's 'at you know about 
 An' said 'at she would ruther part 
 With all o' them great works o' art 
 'An with that little baby's face, 
 I knowed her heart was in its place. 
 
 97
 
 iSlue antj (So Hi. 
 
 An' so I 'm thinkin', tho' John 'a good, 
 An' gives her everythin' he should, 
 He 's busy, an' maybe f orgits 
 'At how she sometimes has them fits 
 0' lonesomeness, an' does n't know 
 'At what she cares f er is n't show, 
 But love, to dry that fountain up 
 'At every day fills sorter's cup. 
 
 98
 
 Blue anfc (olti. 
 
 THE KISS. 
 
 'THE fragrance of fair gardens stole 
 
 Through silent spaces dusky, 
 Detective fire-flies flashed patrol 
 Down many pathways musky, 
 When first he called Miss Katherine ' Kate ' 
 
 And lost the prefix ' Mr.' 
 They parted at the garden gate, 
 'T was there he kissed her. 
 
 Her eyes were jewels wondrous bright, 
 No diamonds could outshine them; 
 
 Her teeth were such a milky white 
 "Were ivory judge 't would fine them ! 
 
 Her mouth ! no flower so sweet doth blow - 
 What mortal could resist her? 
 
 Although her lips said ' No, no, no ! ' 
 'T was there he kissed her. 
 
 99
 
 Blue ant 
 
 HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVE. 
 
 UOW the other half live, is a question I fear, 
 
 Dear sirs, to discuss, for to me 'tis not clear 
 Who the other half are. Two halves make a whole 
 On that proposition would each stake his soul ; 
 We belong to the world, and when that is divided 
 To which half we belong will then be decided ; 
 But who is among us in full glare of day, 
 Not by gaslight at banquet, is willing to say 
 How the other half live? 
 
 How the other half live ! There 's the good and 
 
 the bad, 
 
 And the halves are uneven, although it is sad ; 
 And the latter outnumber the first in such wise 
 As to discount all blessings the good can devise. 
 And who is now here who would wish to declare, 
 By naming the other, his own and our share? 
 'T is a question that puts us all far out to sea, 
 And one that may bother us eternally 
 How the other half live. 
 
 100
 
 Blue ant) 
 
 How the other half live ! Who is rich, who is poor ? 
 If we knew who were which we might find us a cure. 
 Many troubles we know are withdrawn from the 
 
 latter, 
 At the same time we wish that our wallets were 
 
 fatter! 
 
 And so I have run through a numerous list 
 (Which might have been longer had nothing been 
 
 missed) 
 
 Till at last I have come to the only division 
 That has helped me at all in making decision 
 How the other half live. 
 
 How the other half live ! Who the other half are, 
 
 When discovered, solution is not very far. 
 
 Why, who could they be, but the women, God bless 
 
 them! 
 Our own better halves! How we love and caress 
 
 them! 
 
 The only division to make of humanity 
 Into two parts, without losing your sanity, 
 Is division by sexes. Now be it resolved, 
 By the light of these rhymes has the problem been 
 
 solved 
 
 How the other half live. 
 
 101
 
 Blue smfc 
 
 DON'T. 
 
 r\O N'T use an inch rule to measure your life ; 
 
 The horizon, the peaks in the sky, 
 Are always at hand let your living be planned 
 
 To a scale which such objects supply. 
 Do n't wear yourself out in an ignoble strife ; 
 
 There are objects worth while to achieve, 
 And they lie within reach of the humblest and teach 
 
 A gospel the world will receive. 
 
 Do n't gaze at a copper with look so intense 
 
 Its impress is stamped on your mind ; 
 'T was a miser was led by a penny who said, 
 
 Look out for each cent that you find. 
 Take care of the dollars, you '11 have enough cents 
 
 To keep you from poverty's door ; 
 Enjoy what you 've got without casting your lot 
 
 With spendthrifts or niggards galore. 
 
 Do n't get in a rut take a main-travelled road 
 Worn smooth by the many who pass ; 
 
 102
 
 38lue anb 
 
 If you travel in ' tracks ' you will follow the hacks 
 That ought to be turned out to grass. 
 
 It matters but little what sort of a load 
 You carry or whither it goes ; 
 
 If you journey aright the burden is light 
 And you 're ready for friends or for foes. 
 
 103
 
 anl) <0ltJ. 
 
 AUNT MARY. 
 
 THERE 'S a time at the close of day, 
 When the tea things are put away, 
 When Aunt Mary thinks and winks and blinks,- 
 And what does she think of, pray? 
 
 Does she think of the days gone by? 
 
 And is every breath a sigh 
 For the hours she spent in merriment, 
 
 When quick were foot and eye? 
 
 Do those nights, long gone, return, 
 
 And love's old passion burn? 
 Of far-away June does memory croon, 
 
 And make her poor heart yearn ? 
 
 Or is it of other things, 
 
 Her memory busily sings 
 Of troublesome mice and boys not nice, 
 
 Of the cupboard door that swings ? 
 
 If her thoughts are of this or that, 
 
 For the gift of a brand-new hat, 
 She would not tell, I know right well 
 
 Aunt Mary 's the household cat.
 
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