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And you

O you, who the wildest yearn For the old-time step and the glad return, Think of him faring on, as dear In the love of There as the love of Here; And loyal still as he gave the blows Of his warrior strength to his country's foos Mild and gentle, as he was brave, When the sweetest love of his life he gave To simple things : where the violets grew Pure as the eyes they were likened to. The touches of his hands have strayed As reverently as his lips have prayed; When the little brown thrush that harshly chirred Was dear to him as the mocking-bird; And he pitied as much as a man in pain A writhing honey-bee wet with rain. Think of him still as the same, I say: He is not dead — he is just away!


THERE, little girl - don't cry! They have broken your doll, I know;

And your tea-set blue,

And your play-house, too,
Are things of the long ago:
But childish troubles will soon pass by ;-

There, little girl — don't cry!

There, little girl — don't cry!
They have broken your slate, I know;

And the glad, wild ways

Of your schoolgirl days
Are things of the long ago:
But life and love will soon come by;

There, little girl - don't cry!

There, little girl - don't cry!
They have broken your heart, I know;

And the rainbow gleams
Of your youthful dreams

Are things of the long ago :
But heaven holds all for which you sigh ; -

There, little girl — don't cry!


Nothin' to say, my daughter! nothin' at all to say!
G’yrils that's in love, I've noticed, ginerly has their way!
Yer mother did, afore you, when her folks objected to me
Yit here I am, and here you air; and yer mother — where is she?

You look lots like yer mother: purty much same in size;
And about the same complected; and favor about the eyes;
Like her, too, about her livin' here, because she could p't stay:
It'll most seem like you was dead — like her! but I hain't got

nothin' to say !

She left


her little Bible writ yer name acrost the page ; And left her ear-bobs fer you, ef ever you come of age. I've allus kep''em and g’yarded 'em, but ef yer goin' away Nothin' to say, my daughter ! nothin' at all to say!

You don't rikollect her, I reckon ? No: you was n't a year old

then ! And now yer — how old air you? W'y, child, not "twenty " !

When ? And yer nex' birthday's in April ? and you want to get married

that day ? I wisht

yer mother was livin'!-- but — I hain't got nothin' to say!

Twenty year! and as good a girl as parent ever found !
There's a straw ketched onto yer dress there - I'll bresh it off-

turn round.
(Her mother was jes’ twenty when us two run away !)
Nothin' to say, my daughter ! nothin' at all to say !


TELL you what I like the best :

'Long about knee-deep in June,
'Bout the time the strawberries melts
On the vine,

some afternoon
Like to jes' git out and rest,

And not work at nothin' else!

Orchard's where I'd ruther be-
Need n't fence it in for me!-
Jes' the whole sky overhead,

And the whole airth underneath
Sorto' so 's a man kin breathe

Like he ort, and kindo' has
Elbow-room to keerlessly

Sprawl out len’thways on the grass, Where the shadder 's thick and soft As the kivvers on the bed

Mother fixes in the loft Allus, when they's company !

Jes' a sorto' lazin' there
S'lazy 'at you peek and peer

Through the wavin' leaves above,

Like a feller 'at's in love
And don't know it, ner don't keer!
Ever'thing you hear and see

Got some sort o' interest:

Maybe find a bluebird's nest
Tucked up there conveenently
For the boys 'at's apt to be
Up some other apple-tree !
Watch the swallers scootin' past
'Bout as peert as you could ast;
Er the bobwhite raise and whiz
Where some other's whistle is.

Ketch a shadder down below,
And look


to find the crow;
Er a hawk away up there,
'Pearantly froze in the air!
Hear the old hen squawk, and squat
Over every chick she's got,
Suddent-like! — And she knows where
That air hawk is, well as you !
You jes' bet your life she do !
Eyes a-glitterin' like glass,
Waitin' till he makes a pass !
Pee-wee's singin', to express

My opinions second-class,
Yit you'll hear 'em more or less ;

Sapsuck 's gittin' down to biz,
Weedin' out the lonesomeness;

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But when June comes — clear my throat

With wild honey! Repch my hair
In the dew! and hold my coat !

Whoop out loud! and throw my hat!
June wants me, and I'm to spare !
Spread them shadders anywhere,
I'll git down and waller there,

And obleeged to you at that!

WHILE THE HEART BEATS YOUNG. While the heart beats young! - Oh, the splendor of the Spring, With all her dewy jewels on, is not so fair a thing The fairest, rarest morning of the blossom-time of May Is not so sweet a season as the season of to-day While Youth's diviner climate folds and holds us, close caressed. As we feel our mothers with us, by the touch of face and breast; — Our bare feet in the meadows, and our fancies up among The airy clouds of morning - while the heart beats young. While the heart beats young and our pulses leap and dance, With every day a holiday and life a glad romance, We hear the birds with wonder, and with wonder watch their

flight Standing still the more enchanted, both of hearing and of sight, When they have vanished wholly — for, in fancy, wing to wing, We fly to Heaven with them; and, returning, still we sing The praises of this lower Heaven with tireless voice and tongue, E'en as the Master sanctions while the heart beats young ! While the heart beats young ! — While the heart beats young! O green and gold old Earth of ours, with azure overhung And looped with rainbows ! - grant us yet this grassy lap of

thine We would be still thy children, through the shower and the shine ! So pray we, lisping, whispering, in childish love and trust, With our beseeching hands and faces lifted from the dust By fervor of the poem, all unwritten and unsung, Thou givest us in answer, while the heart beats young.

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