WHEN labor is light and the morn… I find it a pleasure beyond all co… To hitch up my nag and go hurrying… And take Katie May for a ride int… For bumpety—bump goes the wagon,

AS a quiet little seedling Lay within its darksome bed, To itself it fell a—talking, And this is what it said: 'I am not so very robust,

Night is for sorrow and dawn is fo… Chasing the troubles that fret and… Darkness for sighing and daylight… Cheery and chaste the strain, hear… All the night through, though I m…

Belated wanderer of the ways of sp… Lost in the chill of grim Novembe… Would I could read the message th… And find in it the antidote for pa… Does some sad spirit out beyond th…

THE air is dark, the sky is gray, The misty shadows come and go, And here within my dusky room Each chair looks ghostly in the gl… Outside the rain falls cold and sl…

Break me my bounds, and let me fly To regions vast of boundless sky; Nor I, like piteous Daphne, be Root—bound. Ah, no! I would be fr… As yon same bird that in its fligh…

Storm and strife and stress, Lost in a wilderness, Groping to find a way, Forth to the haunts of day Sudden a vista peeps,

LET me close the eyes of my soul That I may not see What stands between thee and me. Let me shut the ears of my heart That I may not hear

Oh, de weathah it is balmy an’ de… Li’l’ gal, An’ de mockin’ bird is singin’ in… Li’l’ gal; Dere 's a hummin’ an’ a bummin’ in…

Darling, my darling, my heart is o… It flies to thee this morning like… Like happy birds in springtime my… The same sweet song thine ears hav… The sun is in my window, the shado…

Ashes to ashes, dust unto dust, What of his loving, what of his lu… What of his passion, what of his p… What of his poverty, what of his p… Earth, the great mother, has calle…

Oh, summer has clothed the earth In a cloak from the loom of the su… And a mantle, too, of the skies’ s… And a belt where the rivers run. And now for the kiss of the wind,

Come, essay a sprightly measure, Tuned to some light song of pleasu… Maidens, let your brows be crowned As we foot this merry round. From the ground a voice is singing…

Not they who soar, but they who pl… Their rugged way, unhelped, to Go… Are heroes; they who higher fare, And, flying, fan the upper air, Miss all the toil that hugs the so…