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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems, by Henry Reed Conant
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license
+
+
+Title: Poems
+
+Author: Henry Reed Conant
+
+Release Date: May 1, 2016 [EBook #51904]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Charlie Howard, and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+(This file was produced from images generously made
+available by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+    POEMS
+
+    ----BY----
+
+    HENRY REED CONANT.
+
+
+  “’Tis pleasure, sure, to see one’s name in print:
+  A book’s a book, although there’s nothing in’t.”
+            --BYRON.
+
+
+    1893.
+    THE SUN PUBLISHING CO.,
+    Kaukauna, Wis.
+
+
+
+
+    Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1893
+    By HENRY REED CONANT,
+    In the Office of the Librarian of Congress,
+    at Washington.
+
+
+
+
+                            TO MY BROTHER,
+                     CARLOS EVERETT CONANT, A. B.,
+                      NOW PROFESSOR OF LANGUAGES
+                                IN THE
+                        CHADDOCK COLLEGE, ILL.,
+                             AND FORMERLY
+                  PROFESSOR IN THE STATE UNIVERSITY,
+                             OF MINNESOTA,
+                          THIS BOOK OF POEMS
+                     IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+    Telulah Spring,                                _Frontispiece_
+
+    Inscription,                                                5
+
+    Introduction,                                              11
+
+    Life,                                                      17
+
+    Dream of a Fairy,                                          18
+
+    Together,                                                  20
+
+    Be Not Discouraged,                                        21
+
+    Forest Delights,                                           22
+
+    Parting,                                                   23
+
+    Song,                                                      24
+
+    God’s Love,                                                25
+
+    Dreams,                                                    26
+
+    Lines on Life,                                             28
+
+    Where are the Hearts we Cherished So?                      29
+
+    Contentment,                                               31
+
+    The Telulah Spring,                                        33
+
+    Daybreak,                                                  36
+
+    To a Brown Thrush,                                         37
+
+    Hope,                                                      38
+
+    The Angel of Home,                                         39
+
+    To My Sister,                                              40
+
+    Woman,                                                     40
+
+    The Fox River,                                             41
+
+    A Little Grave,                                            42
+
+    Autumn Days,                                               43
+
+    In Heaven,                                                 44
+
+    Idleness,                                                  46
+
+    The River,                                                 47
+
+    The Crown of Fame,                                         49
+
+    Elegy on the Death of Hon. C. B. Clark,                    52
+
+    A Reverie,                                                 53
+
+    Opportunity,                                               56
+
+    Lines Written on Hearing a Gentleman remark: “God Bless
+        Dear Woman.”                                           57
+
+    My Lady Fair,                                              58
+
+    To a Firefly,                                              59
+
+    My Old New England Home,                                   60
+
+    A Lover’s Lament,                                          62
+
+    Faces That are Gone,                                       63
+
+    The True Way,                                              65
+
+    Pitcher or Jug,                                            66
+
+    Two Lives,                                                 67
+
+    Meditation,                                                68
+
+    Tempus Fugit,                                              70
+
+    Gladness,                                                  71
+
+    The Rainbow,                                               71
+
+
+    MISCELLANEOUS VERSES.
+
+    The Dawn o’ Spring,                                        75
+
+    Zeeke Bullard’s Farm,                                      76
+
+    Uncle Nick, on Eddication,                                 80
+
+    Uncle Nick, on Gossipers,                                  82
+
+    The Art o’ Knowin’ How,                                    84
+
+    Mother’s Photograph,                                       86
+
+    Fifty Years,                                               88
+
+    A Maiden Wondrous Fair,                                    89
+
+    Wealth and Want,                                           92
+
+    Childhood,                                                 93
+
+    The Lassie O’er the Way,                                   94
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+Henry Reed Conant was born in Janesville, Wis., on the seventeenth
+day of February, 1872. When four years of age he removed to Vermont,
+the native state of his parents Henry Clay and Dora Evaline (Reed)
+Conant. Henry was educated in the public schools and at the Morrisville
+“People’s Academy,” Vermont, and in his fifteenth year returned to the
+west.
+
+He inherited from his New England ancestors a deep love of nature, and
+pronounced religious and moral strength, which tinge the whole body
+of his rhymes and poems. Like many poets in their juvenile days Mr.
+Conant’s first lines were simple and artless, and the world of critics
+can hardly assail him for penning his first rhymes in honor of his
+“first love,” thus:
+
+  “Of all the lassies in the land
+      That e’er I chanced to view,
+  Methinks the fairest one I saw
+      Had sparkling eyes of blue.”
+
+His first published poem appeared in a little story paper, February,
+1890, at Belvidere, Ills. Nearly all of Mr. Conant’s poems were written
+in Wisconsin, his native state. The selected poems forming this volume
+reflect the young poet’s individuality to a sensible degree. The trend
+of his thoughts and genius is toward the more solemn and religious
+aspects of nature, and of human experience. He dwells in the forest’s
+shade, on the banks of rivers flowing through lea and woodland, by
+the grave of a little child, and wanders back to his old New England
+home--to the scenes of his childhood.
+
+Henry Reed Conant, like many other beginners in the literary arena,
+commits his poems to a critical public with the full consciousness
+of their poetical deficiencies. Criticism he must await, and gladly
+accept as the basis of that future development through which every poet
+must pass ere he attain that popular following that is the reward not
+only of genius, but of bitter disappointments.
+
+            A. K. G.
+
+    Appleton, Wis., Nov. 22, 1893.
+
+
+
+
+  We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths;
+  In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
+  We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives
+  Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.
+            --_Bailey._
+
+
+
+
+POEMS.
+
+
+
+
+_LIFE._
+
+
+  Life is a race in which all compete,
+  Hastening onward with restless feet,
+  Eagerly striving for some great prize
+  That out in the hidden future lies:
+  The sturdy youth with visions bright,
+  The stalwart form of manhood’s might,
+  And tottering age, are borne along
+  In the mighty rush of the endless throng.
+  Like the waves of the sea that forever roll
+  ’Tis a livelong race to an unseen goal;
+  But the prize is gained at the end of the strife,
+  For it lies just beyond this earthly life,
+  Where fears, tribulations and trials cease,
+  In the golden realms of eternal peace.
+
+
+
+
+_DREAM OF A FAIRY._
+
+
+  When all the air was filled with song
+      At morning’s early beam,
+  In musing mood I strolled along
+      Beside a placid stream.
+
+  And as I roved the meadow sweet,
+      What bade my heart rejoice?
+  Was it the daisies at my feet?
+      Nay, nor the songster’s voice.
+
+  For glancing toward the crystal stream
+      I spied a little child,
+  Upon whose brow the morning beam,
+      With all its beauty smiled:
+
+  And on her cheek, so wondrous fair,
+      I saw the ruddy glow,--
+  Beheld her locks of flaxen hair
+      Wave gently to and fro.
+
+  Then with delight I nearer drew,
+      But lo! here ends my theme;
+  I waked--the fairy fled my view--
+      ’Twas but a happy dream.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+_TOGETHER._
+
+
+  ’Neath an aged elm sat a loving pair,
+    A long, long time ago--
+  A youthful man and a maiden fair,
+    With faces all aglow:
+  The birds’ sweet notes in the boughs above
+    And the balm of the sweet June weather
+  Seemed to say, “’Tis the time for love,”
+    As they chatted and laughed together.
+
+  The years flew by--an aged pair,
+    Sat by an old hearth-stone,
+  With furrowed brows and hoary hair,
+    Talking in feeble tone
+  Of the happy days they used to know,
+    When, in the gladsome weather,
+  They wandered merrily to and fro,
+    Talking of love together.
+
+  And now the grass grows green on a pair
+    Of graves, made side by side;
+  Two hearts are lying in silence there,
+    That once beat with joy and pride.
+  They shared life’s triumphs, life’s defeats,
+    Thro’ fair and stormy weather,
+  And now they walk the golden streets
+    Of Paradise--together.
+
+
+
+
+_BE NOT DISCOURAGED._
+
+  When the clouds hang darkly o’er thee,
+      Be thou not discouraged:
+  When the world looks drear before thee,
+      Be thou not discouraged:
+  Let thy heart be light and gay;
+  Soon the clouds will pass away:
+  ’Tis darkest just before the day;
+      Be thou not discouraged.
+
+
+
+
+_FOREST DELIGHTS._
+
+
+  I love to stroll amid the silent wood
+  Where naught is found to break the quietude,
+  Except the woodland tenants, or the breeze
+  Among the tender ferns and tow’ring trees.
+
+  Here sports the timid hare in wanton glee,
+  While may be heard from yonder chestnut tree
+  The squirrel chirping to its mate near by,
+  Which gaily answers with a prompt reply.
+
+  Here many a brooklet ripples on its way,
+  Here countless birds employ their sweetest lay,
+  And here and there the startled otter springs,
+  While oft a partridge hies on whirring wings.
+
+  What are the palaces of kings and lords
+  Compared with all that nature here affords?
+  These forest charms are dearer to my heart
+  Than all the pomp of royalty and art.
+
+
+
+
+_PARTING._
+
+
+  The deepest sorrow fills the heart
+    To see our loved ones perish;
+  But soon or late we all must part
+    With those we fondly cherish.
+
+  The tie must break with friend and friend:
+    The true and noble-hearted
+  Must one day reach their journey’s end,
+    To join the dear departed.
+
+  Why mourn we, then, for those who cross
+    The intervening river?
+  Although to us a heavy loss,
+    To them is joy forever.
+
+
+
+
+_SONG._
+
+
+  Not always the prettiest flowers
+    Fill the air with the sweetest perfume;
+  And not always the sweetest singer
+    Is the bird with the fairest plume.
+
+  But the sweetness surpassing all other,
+    And the richest and tenderest strain,
+  Rise out of the bosom that knoweth
+    The feelings of love and pain.
+
+
+
+
+_GOD’S LOVE._
+
+
+  I know where’er my feet may be,
+        Tho’ prone to stray,
+  His watchful eye is over me
+        Both night and day.
+
+  And tho’ ofttimes this heart has erred
+        ’Mid worldly cares,
+  I know His pard’ning ear has heard
+        My humble prayers.
+
+  At all times, e’en when I have failed
+        To do His will,
+  His love has in my heart prevailed--
+        And guides me still.
+
+
+
+
+_DREAMS._
+
+
+  What cloudless scenes of wonder and delight
+  Come to us in the silent realms of night;
+  Loved ones we meet, that long have been at rest,
+  We grasp their hands and clasp them to our breast,
+  Talk with them of the happy days gone by,
+  With not a pang of sorrow nor a sigh:
+  And everything around looks wondrous fair,
+  Sweet flowers of richest hue bloom here and there;
+  On either hand we see unnumbered throngs
+  Of white-robed angels, wafting joyful songs:
+  And seeing thus, continued glories rise.--
+  Our souls are ’rapt in endless Paradise.
+  But mingled voices touch the sleeper’s ear.
+  And lo! how swift the bright scenes disappear!
+  The morning light beams through the window pane--
+  The dream has fled and day returned again.
+
+
+
+
+_LINES ON LIFE._
+
+
+  With all the cares and toils that here abound,
+  And e’en deep seas of grief which men must ford--
+  To him whose guardian is th’ Omnipotent,
+  Life is a source of everlasting joy!
+
+  This world at most is but an anteroom,
+  Where souls prepare to take their joyous flight
+  To Heaven’s eternal mansions. Thus the while
+  We here remain, is it not meet that we
+  Should wear the garb of truth and righteousness?
+
+
+
+
+_WHERE ARE THE HEARTS WE CHERISHED SO?_
+
+
+  Where are the hearts we cherished so,
+      Who’ve left this earthly main,
+  And gone from kindred circles dear,
+      Ne’er to return again?
+  Where gone those aged silvery locks?
+      That sturdy youthful brow?
+  Alas! no sound comes from the grave,
+      Where they’re reposing now!
+
+  When troubles here our paths beset.
+      When cares and woes assail,
+  We often think of those at rest
+      Within that happy Vale;
+  And tho’ we cannot wish them back
+      In this sad world of pain--
+  O! how we long to catch a glimpse
+      Of their dear forms again!
+
+  But just beyond the stream which glides
+      Between that Land and ours--
+  Where fairer fields are all adorned
+      With never-fading flow’rs,
+  And brighter suns forever shine
+      Throughout the golden spheres,
+  We’ll dwell with those who’ve left us here,
+      Through never-ending years.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+_CONTENTMENT._
+
+
+  The isle of contentment we view from afar,
+  And it dazzles our eyes like a beautiful star;
+  A region which thousands gaze wistfully at,
+  And would dwell there, if ’twasn’t for this or for that.
+
+  The lord in his palace, the cotter obscure,
+  The high and the lowly, the rich and the poor,
+  Are all discontented whate’er be the case,
+  Because they are not in some other man’s place.
+
+  In youth, how we long for mature years of men;
+  In age, how we sigh for our childhood again;
+  Wherever our station, whate’er be our lot,
+  We miss countless blessings for joys we have not.
+
+  Thus, ever thro’ life, from our earliest prime,
+  We look and we long for some happier clime,
+  Until the bright portals of Paradise ope,
+  And we soar away home on the pinions of hope.
+
+
+
+
+_THE TELULAH SPRING._
+
+    A living spring of cool, clear water, on the banks of the Fox
+    River, Appleton, Wis.: said to have been first discovered
+    by, and named after, a beautiful Indian girl by the name of
+    “TELULAH” who, many years ago, lived near the spot.
+
+
+  I’ve heard it told, that many years ago,
+  When here deep groves stood in their majesty,
+  Ere they had felt the white man’s fatal stroke,
+  And peace and happiness breathed over all,--
+  That near this spring an Indian maiden dwelt.
+  Most beautiful was she, so runs the tale,
+  With tresses like the darkest raven’s coat,
+  And eyes to match their hue. Her lips, ’tis said,
+  Surpassed the reddest berries on the hill;
+  And the bright glow which rested on her cheek
+  Was like the morning beam, or like the rays
+  Of eve, that ling’ring, paint the western sky.
+  Such was the one, ’tis said, who first beheld
+  This living stream of water, cool and clear,
+  Uprising from the bosom of the earth.
+  Here many a traveler on his weary way
+  ’Mid summer’s heat, retires to cool his brow,
+  And freely drink the ever crystal tide.
+  And men oppressed with city care and strife,
+  Stroll hither when the toils of day are o’er;
+  Or when the weary week draws to a close,
+  Upon that day when all men cease their toils,
+  Approach this calm retreat to meditate
+  On nature’s wonders and the Mighty One
+  By Whom all things were formed and still exist.
+  And happy lovers strolling hand in hand
+  Amid these pleasant bowers, pause to behold
+  This sparkling fount forever gushing forth,
+  And linger ’round this scene of beauty, which
+  Still bears the name of that sweet Indian girl.
+
+
+
+
+_DAYBREAK._
+
+
+  We behold the bright joys of another day’s dawn,
+    As time swiftly flies “like a bird on the wing;”
+  Let’s improve every moment, now, ere it has gone,
+    For no one can tell what the next one may bring.
+
+  Our hopes of the future we never may see;
+    Our days that are past we can never redeem;
+  But to-day every heart, love and joy may impart,
+    Which surpasses the sun’s most radiant beam.
+
+
+
+
+_TO A BROWN THRUSH_,
+
+On finding its nest and young.
+
+
+  O little thrush, what gives thee such alarm?
+    Pray fear thee not, nor think that I am come
+    To injure or disturb thy happy home;
+  Thy little ones so sweet I ne’er would harm.
+  Thy love, like all true parents’ love, is strong--
+    At all times anxious for thy young so dear;
+    But put away now ev’ry needless fear,
+  And once again resume thy happy song.
+  Sweet bird, I wish thee never-ceasing cheer!
+    Who, with devoted love and tender care,
+    Look’st on thy nestlings now so young and fair.
+  May never cruel enemy come near,
+  Led by blood-thirsty instincts, to destroy
+  Thy little home--now filled with peace and joy.
+
+
+
+
+_HOPE._
+
+
+  Ne’er lose thy courage, tho’ dark seems the strife;
+    The blackest night dies with the golden dawn:
+  Let not thy hope cease while there still is life,
+    For Hope is what the world is living on!
+
+
+
+
+_THE ANGEL OF HOME._
+
+
+  What visions of happiness often steal o’er me,
+    As back to my childhood in fancy I roam;
+  And the picture that mem’ry paints brightest before me,
+    Is mother, dear mother,--the angel of home.
+
+  No love’s like a mother’s, so true and so tender,
+    No love’s so enduring ’neath heaven’s broad dome;
+  And not all earth’s wealth with its pomp and its splendor,
+    Could steal my affection from mother and home.
+
+
+
+
+_TO MY SISTER._
+
+
+  May still thy deeds of innocence,
+      Like stars of heaven, shine;
+  And thou retain thy purity,
+      Till Heaven itself is thine!
+
+
+
+
+_WOMAN._
+
+
+  The fairest flower that all our path adorns,
+  The loveliest rose amidst the cruel thorns,
+  The brightest star that shines in man’s abode,
+  The sweetest gift that Heaven e’er bestowed!
+
+
+
+
+_THE FOX RIVER._
+
+
+  O beautiful river,
+    How gently among
+  The fields and the forests
+    Thou glidest along!
+
+  ’Mid thy pleasant valleys
+    And cool shady bow’rs,
+  Grow tall fragrant grasses
+    And bright blooming flow’rs.
+
+  By day o’er thy waters
+    The sun beameth bright,
+  And stars ever twinkle
+    Above thee by night.
+
+  And never complaining
+    Thou flowest along
+  ’Mid nature’s wide province
+    With laughter and song:
+
+  Content with thy mission
+    In nature’s great plan;
+  And such is thy lesson
+    Thou teachest to man.
+
+
+
+
+_A LITTLE GRAVE._
+
+
+  Sweetly sing, ye little songsters;
+      Smile, ye happy skies;
+  Softly blow, ye wanton breezes--
+      Here an infant lies!
+
+  Brightly bloom, ye tinted flowers,
+      Wafting sweet perfume;
+  Gently fall, ye summer showers,
+      On this little tomb.
+
+
+
+
+AUTUMN DAYS.
+
+
+  The summer joys are fleeting fast
+      From forest, field and glen,
+  And soon shall winter’s piercing blast
+      Sweep o’er the earth again.
+
+  How lovely were the bright spring flow’rs,
+      That decked the landscape o’er;
+  But now we see, on fields and bow’rs,
+      Their dainty forms no more.
+
+  The leaves are falling in the wind,
+      From many a lofty height,
+  And birds are calling to their kind,
+      Upon their farewell flight.
+
+  But still, how cheering is the thought,
+      When other joys have flown;
+  That the little snow-bird leaves us not,
+      But chirps till winter’s gone.
+
+
+
+
+_IN HEAVEN._
+
+
+  One pleasant day in June a little thrush
+    Lit on a bough close by my window pane,
+  And as the streams from living fountains gush,
+    Poured forth its sweetest strain.
+
+  My heart then felt released from every care,
+    And seemed to rise toward Heaven’s enchanted zone,
+  When soon the music ceased, and looking there,
+    I saw the bird had flown.
+
+  And then the thought came to me of the one
+    Who left me when so youthful and so fair,
+  Who in the light of Heaven’s unsetting sun
+    Lives with the angels there.
+
+  I little thought, ere those sweet smiles were gone,
+    That she so soon must heed the angel’s call;
+  But all the way He led her safely on
+    Who marks the sparrow’s fall.
+
+  And some day, when life’s billows cease to roar,
+    And here no more my weary feet shall roam,
+  Our souls shall be conjoined forevermore
+    In Heaven’s eternal home.
+
+
+
+
+_IDLENESS._
+
+
+  Make some good use of ev’ry space of time,
+  In idleness are sown the seeds of crime;
+  Man’s erring mind, allured by passions strong,
+  Begins pursuing here the path of wrong;
+  And heedless of the peril just ahead,
+  Step after step proceeds with fearless tread,
+  Till ruin comes with overwhelming power--
+  The bitter fate of many an idle hour!
+
+
+
+
+_THE RIVER._
+
+
+  Out from the shady woodland,
+      With song and laughter free;
+  Down from the sunny hillside,
+      And over the flow’ry lea,
+  Floweth the restless river,
+      On its journey to the sea.
+
+  Over the silvery pebbles,
+      Sparkling like morning dew,
+  Whether in light or darkness,
+      Doth ever its course pursue,
+  Till it gains the mighty ocean
+      With waters vast and blue.
+
+  And thus are WE traveling onward,--
+      ’Tis Hope by which we’re borne,
+  And our hearts beat with triumphant gladness,
+      As we dream of some brighter dawn
+  With sights that are nobler and grander,
+      And we journey on and on.
+
+  And up from the earth’s dark bosom,
+      Like the homeward flight of a dove,
+  On Hope’s majestic pinions
+      We soar to the realms above,
+  To lave forever and ever,
+      In the sea of Eternal Love.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+_THE CROWN OF FAME._
+
+
+  What toils and hardships oft confront man’s sight,
+  When first ascending fame’s immortal height:
+  What cares, vexations, worriments prevail,
+  What deep-laid plans, repeated efforts, fail;
+  Yet who would dwell in hermit den, obscure,
+  To shun the toils that hero-gods endure!
+    Bestir thyself, O man, for soon--too soon,
+  As youth recedes, shall fade life’s golden noon!
+  If thou wouldst make thyself undying name,
+  Direct thy efforts to one worthy aim;
+  Let each exertion then be wrought with zeal,
+  Nor faint if woe come where thou look’st for weal;
+  But toil thou on, nor fear the world’s dark frown,
+  Till firm upon the summit of renown.
+    Whatever good, perchance, thy toils, may greet,
+  Lose not thyself in folly’s vain conceit:
+  False pride to lowest degradation tends--
+  It leads to vice and vice to crime descends;
+  As tiny rills, that from the mountain flow,
+  Pursue their course to larger streams below,
+  Till seas are joined where mighty billows roll,
+  So pride goes onward till it wrecks the soul;
+  Thus by degrees the downward course begins,
+  And greatest evils rise from little sins.
+    Nor seek thy fame ’mid pompous scenes of art,
+  Where vice and folly oft inure the heart:
+  ’Tis Right eternal kindles honor’s flame,
+  And crowns Man’s efforts with immortal Fame.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+_ELEGY_,
+
+    On the death of Hon. C. B. Clark, member of Congress from 1887
+    to 1891, for Wisconsin district No. 6, (now No. 8.) Died Sept.
+    10th, 1891.
+
+
+  Well may the throngs in countless numbers weep,
+    Bereft of such a great and noble man,
+    For brilliant was the course of life he ran,
+  But now he lies in everlasting sleep.
+
+  He lived a life exempt from selfish pride;
+    He never turned a stranger from his door;
+    He ne’er refused to aid the needful poor;
+  He proved to youth a never-failing guide.
+
+  Alas! we mourn, with aching in our breast
+    And eyelids moistened with the burning tear,
+    The loss of one, so generous and sincere,
+  Now silent in his sweet and peaceful rest.
+
+
+
+
+_A REVERIE._
+
+
+  O glad shall I be when the winter is ended,
+    When the wild sweeping blasts of the season are gone,
+  When the last flakes of snow to the ground have descended,
+    And the drifts have all vanished from meadow and lawn.
+
+  O glad shall I be when these cold days are over,
+    And the bright joys of summer are with us again;
+  When the meadows are blooming with sweet-scented clover,
+    And the warm sun is smiling on new fields of grain.
+
+  O glad shall I be, when as free as the air
+    The birds are all singing their merriest lay,
+  To remind me of days when I knew naught of care,
+    And the seasons all seemed like a long summer day.
+
+  O spring! merry spring! with thy fragrance of flowers,
+    To thee from my sorrows I longingly turn;--
+  I’ll forget the drear scenes of these long winter hours,
+    And dream of thy blessings and happy return.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+_OPPORTUNITY._
+
+
+  Time is ever swiftly fleeting,
+    Unimproved by scores of men;
+  Opportunities are passing
+    That we’ll never have again;
+  Many things we may accomplish,
+    As the hours go speeding on,
+  If we but improve each moment,
+    Ere the precious time is gone.
+
+  There are many hearts about us,
+    That a loving word might cheer;
+  There are many dear ones with us,
+    That ere long may not be here:
+  Let us then be wise and thoughtful,
+    As our course we journey on,
+  Striving for the good of others
+    Ere the precious time is gone.
+
+
+
+
+_LINES_
+
+    Written on hearing a gentleman remark: “God bless dear woman.”
+
+
+  “God bless dear woman!” did I hear you say?
+  Full many a man might wisely thus remark!
+  How oft her smiles have cheered man’s troubled way,
+  And comfort brought when fortune’s sky was dark--
+  The vine that clings unto the oak, whose bark
+  Is coarse and rough and void of pleasing grace;
+  And like a dove within the cheerless Ark,
+  Mid life’s drear scenes we see her sweetly face,
+  And in God’s best design, there love and beauty trace!
+
+
+
+
+_MY LADY FAIR._
+
+
+  When aged winter, fierce and grim,
+    Had ceased his surly reign,
+  And virgin spring again adorned
+    The forest, field and plain;
+  One morning when the sun was bright
+    And music filled the air,
+  I wandered o’er the meadow sweet
+    Beside my lady fair!
+
+  We strolled along ’mid blooming flow’rs,
+    Till ’neath a spreading tree,
+  We sat where swift the raptured hours
+    Flew o’er my love and me;
+  And when at last time bade us part,
+    I kissed those lips so sweet,
+  And little dreamed but we should still
+    Oft thus together meet.
+
+  But us the stars of heav’n depart,
+    When dawn her glory brings,
+  One morn the angels bore her off
+    Upon their snowy wings!
+  Yet, in the golden realms above,
+    I trust some day to see,
+  With endless joy, the one who made
+    This earth a Heaven to me!
+
+
+
+
+_TO A FIRE-FLY._
+
+
+  Blithesome insect, gently flying
+      Thro’ the shades of night,
+  As we see thy rays of brightness,
+      May our hopes be bright;
+  And tho’ with life’s cares encompass’d,
+      May our hearts be light.
+
+
+
+
+_MY OLD NEW ENGLAND HOME._
+
+
+  When the stars above, in gladness,
+      Twinkle thro’ the evening gloam,
+  With a mingled joy and sadness,
+      Often do my fancies roam
+  Backward to the vanished pleasures
+      Of my old New England home.
+
+  In that home I see my mother--
+      Of all earthly friends the best--
+  At her side my younger brother,
+      With his youthful pleasures blest;
+  And my little brown-eyed sister,
+      Sleeping on her mother’s breast.
+
+  And within that sacred dwelling
+      Father’s cheerful face I see,
+  And I hear him kindly telling
+      Us to ever loyal be;--
+  On the battle-field he perished,
+      When they made our country free.
+
+  When he went away, our mother
+      Safely led our little band,
+  And she taught us of another
+      Loving Father, whose strong hand,
+  Never would forsake his children,
+      If they heeded His command:
+
+  Taught us, in our youth and beauty,
+      Ne’er to turn our feet aside
+  From the paths of truth and duty,
+      Whatsoever might betide;
+  But to keep the path of wisdom,
+      And obey our Heavenly guide.
+
+  Back to home and all its pleasures
+      Often do my fancies roam,
+  And to me, the richest treasures
+      Under heaven’s starry dome,
+  Were the blessings of my childhood,
+      In that old New England home.
+
+
+
+
+_A LOVER’S LAMENT._
+
+
+  As lillies, arrayed in their loveliness, fade,
+    So faded my fairest--my love:
+  My joys have all fled, for my darling is dead--
+    O Stella! My dearest, my dove!
+
+  The loveliest flowers, in this sad world of ours,
+    Are soonest from us to depart--
+  Are first to decay; and thus faded away
+    The tenderest joy of my heart.
+
+  My hopes, once so bright, have all taken their flight,
+    For gone is my beautiful dove:
+  I’m weary with grief, and shall ne’er find relief,
+    Till I rest with my darling above.
+
+
+
+
+_FACES THAT ARE GONE._
+
+
+  How we long to see the faces
+    That have crossed the silent tide--
+  Faces marked with care and sorrow,
+    Faces full of joy and pride;
+  Some with furrowed brow and hoary,
+    Some in youth’s lamented bloom;--
+  One by one from us departed,
+    For the cold and silent tomb.
+
+  Birds employ their notes of gladness
+    As they flutter to and fro,
+  Flow’rs display their wealth of beauty,
+    As they used to long ago;
+  But the birds may sing forever,
+    And the flow’rs forever bloom;
+  They can ne’er bring back the faces
+    That are hidden in the tomb!
+
+  Silently death steals upon us,
+    Silently time speedeth on--
+  Soon we, too, shall all be numbered,
+    With the faces that are gone;
+  Each and all must shortly follow
+    Thro’ the shadows and the gloom,
+  To the loved ones who are waiting
+    In the light beyond the tomb.
+
+
+
+
+_THE TRUE WAY._
+
+
+  We know that we’re stubborn and willful,
+    And tho’ we have kindly been shown
+  The true way, which God has appointed,
+    We often go on in our own.
+
+  And thus we go on in the darkness,
+    Groping our way thro’ the night;
+  Unmindful ofttimes of His goodness,
+    And missing His glorious light.
+
+  But still He looks down with compassion,
+    And e’en thro’ life’s greatest alarms
+  We’re sheltered and safely protected,
+    As weak little lambs in His arms.
+
+  Could we but have more of His goodness
+    Implanted each day in our heart,
+  Perhaps there are others about us
+    Who’d feel the rich joy we’d impart.
+
+  Could our love, every day, be to others
+    As the love from our Maker above,
+  O what a grand army of brothers
+    Would be banded together in love!
+
+
+
+
+_PITCHER OR JUG._
+
+
+  Which brings poverty and woe,
+  Which makes useless tears to flow,
+  Which brings scorn where’er we go,
+      Pitcher or jug?
+
+  Which fades beauty, health and bloom,
+  Which turns happiness to gloom,
+  Which leads to the drunkard’s tomb,
+      Pitcher or jug?
+
+
+
+
+_TWO LIVES._
+
+
+  They started out together
+      Amid the worldly din;
+  One yielded to temptation,
+      And lived a life of sin:
+  They found his lifeless body
+      One pleasant summer dawn,
+  All mangled in the gutter--
+      A wretched life was gone.
+
+  The other trod the pathway
+      Of righteousness and truth,
+  And kept his soul as spotless
+      As in his early youth;
+  And when his voyage was ended,
+      On Heaven’s blissful shore
+  He joined the great reunion,
+      Where parting is no more.
+
+
+
+
+_MEDITATION._
+
+
+  ’Mid scenes of mystery life’s tide rolls onward;
+  And tho’ some, delving deep in caves of knowledge,
+  Have revealed wondrous facts, this life, concerning,
+  Still blind they are to most of life’s great features;
+  How powerless to perceive the future’s movements,
+  Or e’en explain the present things about them!
+  We little more than know that we’re existing,
+  ’Mid scenes that time and tide are changing ever.
+  _Hope_ is a star that lures men ever onward,
+  Oft seeming near and yet forever distant;
+  _Contentment_ is an isle where man, if ever,
+  Has seldom dwelt amid the scenes enchanting;
+  _Love_ is a dew-drop on the rose-bush glowing,
+  Soon to depart as e’en the bush must perish:
+  All things of earth are like the fleeting shadows
+  Except the love of Him whose power and wisdom
+  Exceeds, by far, man’s deepest understanding,
+  And He, who clothes the lillies in their beauty,
+  Who feeds his flocks and marks the falling sparrow,
+  Will shield His children from life’s raging tempests,
+  And lead them safe through waters of affliction
+  Until, at last, beyond the vales and shadows,
+  Their eyes behold that Land of endless beauty.
+
+
+
+
+_TEMPUS FUGIT._
+
+
+  Men sleep, but time speeds on;
+  The sun comes out at dawn
+      O’er hill and town,
+      At eve goes down,
+  But ever time speeds on.
+
+  Men die--the world moves on,
+  And when our forms are gone,
+      New hearts arise,
+      To seek earth’s prize;
+  And thus the world moves on.
+
+
+
+
+_GLADNESS._
+
+
+  Let thy heart, attuned to gladness,
+      Every fear and doubt dispel--
+  Banish idle thoughts of sadness,
+      Then shall joy thy bosom swell.
+
+
+
+
+_THE RAINBOW._
+
+
+  Howe’er dark the clouds may hover
+      O’er thy pathway, ne’er repine;
+  Mark thou, when the storm is over,
+      In the heaven that beautious line!
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+MISCELLANEOUS VERSES.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+NOTE.
+
+
+My first intention was to omit the following pieces from this
+publication, but on recommendation of several readers I have finally
+decided to place them in a seperate department; expecting in either
+case--whether included in this book or omitted--that the youthful
+aspirant, in this attempt to flutter out into the literary sphere, will
+fall headlong and be left only to dream of those glorious heights where
+others triumphantly soar amid the silvery clouds of fancy.
+
+            H. R. C.
+
+
+
+
+_THE DAWN O’ SPRING._
+
+
+  Yes, boys, I’m waitin’ patiently to see the dawn o’ spring--
+  To see the flowers in blossom an’ to hear the robins sing;
+  An’ to see the trees an’ meadows clad in garbs o’ livin’ green;
+  An’ to hear the merry music o’ the brook thet flows between.
+
+  It makes me fairly home-sick sech cold wintry days ez these,
+  The snow a driftin’ everywhere an’ layin’ in the trees;
+  An’ when Jack Frost steals ’round et night an’ frescoes everything,
+  It makes me hanker more an’ more to see the dawn o’ spring.
+
+  Fer I know when spring comes ’round ag’in with all her sweet perfume;
+  Her reses all in blossom an’ her orchards all a-bloom,
+  An’ robins singin’ gaily--I’ll be happy ez a king;
+  Thet’s why I’m waitin’ patiently to see the dawn o’ spring.
+
+
+
+
+_ZEEKE BULLARD’S FARM._
+
+
+  Zeeke Bullard wuz a farmer of no great amount of worth,
+  Tho’ his farm wuz well supplied with miles of rich, productive earth;
+  Fer he owned three hundred acres, so his frien’s an’ neighbors sed,
+  But he uster say thet money wuz a thing he never hed.
+
+  He’d groan about his losses, an’ his scarcity of tin,
+  An’ he of’en sed he wondered w’y his crops were all so thin;
+  He’d set aroun’ frum morn till night till days an’ weeks ’ud pass,
+  An’ talk about the way he’d lose his grain an’ garden sass.
+
+  The ’tater bugs in multitudes ’ud come frum all aroun’,
+  Till nothin’ in his Murphy patch wuz left abuv the groun’;
+  Insects of all descriptions thronged aroun’ his garden beds,
+  While worms with powerful appetites devoured his cabbage heads.
+
+  The crows ’ud come day after day to steal his yaller corn,
+  An’ dine on oats an’ barley till his fiel’s were nearly shorn,
+  An’ acre after acre where his clover oughter grow,
+  There wa’n’t but giant thistles pintin’ daggers high an’ low.
+
+  An’ when his crops were harvested by bugs an’ worms an’ crows,
+  An’ wintry blasts were comin’ on, his sons were void of clo’es;
+  In spite of all the mendin’ thet his little wife could do,
+  The toes an’ knees an’ elbows of his boys were peekin’ thro’.
+
+         *       *       *       *       *
+
+  A while ago I left thet place of farmin’ enterprise,
+  An’ now my folks are livin’ ’neath the broad, blue western skies,
+  An’ tho’ I ain’t a farmer I’m convinced there’s nothin’ made,
+  Unless you work et farmin’, same ez any other trade.
+
+  Weeds don’t need cultervatin’, but they grow up tall an’ stout,
+  An’ you mus’ work to save the grain an keep the thistles out:
+  You can’t loaf ’round frum morn till night an’ talk the hull day thro’,
+  For yer crops’ll go to ruin jest ez surely ez you do.
+
+         *       *       *       *       *
+
+  I’ve jest received a letter frum an ol’-time friend of mine,
+  Who sed poor Zeeke wuz dwellin’ where bright crowns of glory shine;
+  He’d quit the farmin’ business an’ wuz free frum worl’ly harm,
+  While his seven sons were lef’ to raise the mortgage on his farm.
+
+
+
+
+_UNCLE NICK, ON EDDICATION._
+
+
+  While ’tendin’ skool I uster be fust class et playin’ ball,
+  Et playin’ tag er leap-frog I wuz formost of ’em all;
+  Sech sportin’ allus hed fer me a wondrous fascination,
+  An’ so I spent more time et this than on my eddication.
+
+  I of’en git to thinkin’ what fine chances I hed then
+  To git an’ eddication, but of course it’s useless when
+  The opportunity is passed to mourn yer situation--
+  It’s pooty hard when you are ol’ to git an eddication.
+
+  Now boys I’m ’fraid thet some o’ you are growin’ up this way,
+  I’m ’fraid fer learnin’ some o’ you are substertootin’ play,
+  I’m ’fraid there’s boys a-livin’ in this present gineration,
+  Who’ll wish some day they’d seen less play an’ more o’ eddication.
+
+  You can’t keep waitin’, thinkin’ thet you’ve got a lot o’ time,--
+  The time to git yer schoolin’, boys, is while you’re in yer prime;
+  When you are ol’ you’ll see enough o’ care an’ tribulation,
+  Without the thought thet carelessly you missed an eddication.
+
+
+
+
+_UNCLE NICK, ON GOSSIPERS._
+
+
+  When people git to gossipin’ sometimes they’ll set an’ talk
+  Fer hours an’ hours together, jest ez reg’ler ez a clock;
+  I s’pose they think folks love to hear their never-endin’ yop,--
+  But when Samantha’s talked a while she knows enough to stop.
+
+  When Mrs. Jones wuz tellin’ et our place the other day,
+  Thet Mrs. Williams told her thet her neighbor, Mrs. Gray,
+  Sed she never saw so big a story-teller’s Widder Heath--
+  Samantha set there quiet, with her tongue between her teeth.
+
+  She ain’t ferever slingin’ out sech everlastin’ gab:--
+  She of’en sez “it’s bad enough to hear the neighbors blab;”
+  But she jest stays et home instid an’ ’tends to fam’ly cares,
+  An’ never tells the neighborhood about her home affairs.
+
+  We don’t take any papers, but with news we’re well supplied;
+  Fer the neighbors tell us every birth an’ death an’ suicide:
+  When Mrs. Jones comes up our walk a-squeakin’ them new shoes,
+  Sometimes Samantha’ll say to me, “here comes the daily news.”
+
+
+
+
+_THE ART O’ KNOWIN’ HOW._
+
+
+  It’s hard to write a decent song, tho’ maybe you deny it,
+  Most any job looks easy you’ll allow;
+  But if you’re inexperienced perhaps you’d better try it,
+  An’ you’ll find the nickromancy’s in the art o’ knowin’ how.
+
+  There’s lots o’ things you’ve never done that looks all killin’ easy--
+  Did you ever try to milk a kickin’ cow?
+  If not, just try yer hand fer fun, to satisfy and please ye,
+  An’ you’ll find the nickromancy’s in the art o’ knowin’ how.
+
+  Whatever yer profession, you’ll discover soon or late,
+  As you stop to wipe the sweat from off yer brow,
+  That to preach a decent sermon er to draw a furrow straight,
+  The nickromancy lies within the art o’ knowin’ how.
+
+  So be sure thet you’re adapted to the work thet you profess,
+  Teachin’ gospel truths er hangin’ on the plow,
+  Then buckle down to business, an’ yer can’t escape success,
+  Fer you’ll find the nickromancy’s in the art o’ knowin’ how.
+
+
+
+
+_MOTHER’S PHOTOGRAPH._
+
+
+  D’you wish to know what came to me from good ol’ Santa Claus?
+  ’Twuz not a lot o’ nigger-toes to crack between yer jaws,
+  Nor candy nor a jumpin’-jack fer makin’ youngsters laugh--
+  But the present thet he give to me wuz mother’s photograph.
+
+  Some how a cur’ous feelin’ seems to steal acrost my mind,
+  Ez I look back to boyish days an’ think how good an’ kind
+  Thet mother’s been in teachin’ me to shun the evil ways,
+  An’ how attentive she hez been, e’en from my infant days.
+
+  An’ when I think how many years she’s toiled thro’ shine and rain,
+  An’ how she’s allus been on hand to soothe my every pain,
+  It seems ez ef to do my best thet I could never be
+  Half good an’ kind enough to pay fer all she’s done fer me.
+
+  Perhaps you think it’s silly, but it’s jest ez I hev sed,
+  Thet all the other presents ol’ St. Nicholas ever hed,
+  Compared with that he give to me w’ud be but worthless chaff,
+  Nor comfort me one half ez much ez mother’s photograph.
+
+
+
+
+_FIFTY YEARS._
+
+
+  Two score and ten summers have glided away,
+    As time speeds relentlessly on;
+  And our thoughts wander back, as we sit here to-day,
+    O’er the past that has faded and gone.
+
+  Many dear ones have gone to their rest in the grave,
+    Young hearts have departed from play;
+  Still others have gone, their dear country to save,
+    And fall’n ’mid the wild battle’s fray.
+
+  Many dear to our hearts are now far in the west,
+    While few near the old home remain;
+  And though often lonely, we’ve been greatly blest,--
+    Our labors have not been in vain.
+
+  ’Tis fifty long years since the day which we set,
+    Our sorrows and pleasures to share;
+  That bright, happy day we ne’er shall forget,
+    When life looked so joyous and fair!
+
+
+
+
+_A MAIDEN WONDROUS FAIR._
+
+
+  Within a certain town there dwelt
+      A maiden wondrous fair,
+  Whose cheeks were like the rose’s hue
+      And golden was her hair.
+
+  Her eyes were like the twinkling stars,
+      Her teeth were like the pearl;
+  And sons of both the rich and poor,
+      Admired this charming girl.
+
+  Two constant beaus this maiden had,
+      And each one swore that she,
+  Ere many months had passed away,
+      His own dear wife would be.
+
+  But soon an incident occurred
+      Which all their plans upset,
+  When at the maiden’s gate one eve
+      Her two admirers met.
+
+  Hard words arose between the two,
+      As oft there had before;
+  And that the maid should be his wife
+      Still each persistent swore.
+
+  The longer thus they did contend,
+      The more their wrath did rise;
+  Until at last they came to blows
+      O’er who should have the prize.
+
+  While thus engaged, a prim young man
+      With unpretentious mien
+  Approached, just as the maid herself
+      Appeared upon the scene.
+
+  Then soon the angry blows were ceased
+      And quietude restored;
+  And each apologized to her
+      Whom he so much adored.
+
+  Then bowing low, each went his way;
+      Quite black and swollen-eyed;
+  While she whom they had fought to win
+      Became the third man’s bride.
+
+
+
+
+_WEALTH AND WANT._
+
+
+  How often the poor are despised and neglected,
+    For no other reason except they are poor;
+  How often the rich are beloved and respected,
+    Because they have uncounted wealth at their door.
+
+  There’s many an honest and virtuous heart,
+    To-day within poverty’s prison enchained;
+  While thousands reside amid pleasures of art,
+    Whose wealth was thro’ vice and dishonesty gained.
+
+  Despise not the needy because they are poor,
+    Nor envy the wealthy because of their gold;
+  Good or ill fortune may stand at our door,
+    But true hearts are not to be purchased or sold.
+
+
+
+
+_CHILDHOOD._
+
+
+  We long for those days, once so joyous,
+    For that unbounded freedom, again,
+  When there were no cares to annoy us,
+    And life knew no sorrow nor pain;
+  But those sweet days of childhood have vanished,
+    And we long for them only in vain.
+
+  Tho’ time has wrought changes unnumbered
+    Since those happy seasons were pass’d,
+  And now with life’s cares we’re encumbered,
+    Still backward fond visions we’ll cast;
+  And we’ll think of our childhood with pleasure
+    As long as our memories last.
+
+
+
+
+_THE LASSIE O’ER THE WAY._
+
+
+  A sweet little lassie
+    Lives over the way:
+  She’s pretty and modest,
+    Yet blithesome and gay.
+
+  So perfect her manners,
+    So graceful her mien;
+  O who would not worship
+    This fair little queen!
+
+  Is there a young laddie
+    Whose heart would not beat
+  For those smiles so angelic
+    And dimples so sweet:
+
+  Those blue eyes a-sparkling,
+    That bright golden hair!
+  O where’s the young lassie
+    More charming and fair!
+
+  She’s modest and gentle,
+    Yet cheerful and gay;
+  This sweet little lassie,
+    Just over the way.
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber’s Note
+
+
+Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a
+predominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not
+changed.
+
+Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unbalanced
+quotation marks retained.
+
+All of the illustrations are the same simple decoration.
+
+“Telulah Spring”, listed as the Frontispiece in the Contents, was
+missing from the original book.
+
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems, by Henry Reed Conant
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license
+
+
+Title: Poems
+
+Author: Henry Reed Conant
+
+Release Date: May 1, 2016 [EBook #51904]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Charlie Howard, and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+(This file was produced from images generously made
+available by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<h1>POEMS</h1>
+
+<p class="p2 center smaller">&mdash;&mdash;BY&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="p2 center large">HENRY REED CONANT.</p>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“’Tis pleasure, sure, to see one’s name in print:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A book’s a book, although there’s nothing in’t.”<br /></span>
+</div>
+<div class="attrib">&mdash;<span class="smcap">Byron.</span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="p2 center">
+1893.<br />
+<span class="smcap">The Sun Publishing Co.</span>,<br />
+Kaukauna, Wis.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p class="newpage p4 center vspace">
+Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1893<br />
+By <span class="smcap">Henry Reed Conant</span>,<br />
+In the Office of the Librarian of Congress,<br />
+at Washington.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p id="INSCRIPTION" class="newpage p4 center vspace2">
+<span class="smcap">To My Brother,<br />
+Carlos Everett Conant, A.&nbsp;B.,<br />
+Now Professor of Languages<br />
+in the<br />
+Chaddock College, Ill.,<br />
+and formerly<br />
+Professor in the State University,<br />
+of Minnesota,<br />
+This Book of Poems<br />
+is Affectionately Inscribed.</span>
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<table summary="Contents">
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Telulah Spring,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><i>Frontispiece</i></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Inscription,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#INSCRIPTION">5</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Introduction,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#INTRODUCTION">11</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Life,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_1">17</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Dream of a Fairy,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_2">18</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Together,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_3">20</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Be Not Discouraged,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_4">21</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Forest Delights,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_5">22</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Parting,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_6">23</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Song,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_7">24</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">God’s Love,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_8">25</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Dreams,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_9">26</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Lines on Life,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_10">28</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Where are the Hearts we Cherished So?</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_11">29</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Contentment,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_12">31</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Telulah Spring,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_13">33</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Daybreak,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_14">36</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">To a Brown Thrush,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_15">37</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Hope,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_16">38</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Angel of Home,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_17">39</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">To My Sister,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_18">40</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Woman,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_19">40</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Fox River,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_20">41</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">A Little Grave,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_21">42</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Autumn Days,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_22">43</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">In Heaven,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_23">44</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Idleness,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_24">46</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The River,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_25">47</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Crown of Fame,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_26">49</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Elegy on the Death of Hon. C.&nbsp;B. Clark,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_27">52</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">A Reverie,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_28">53</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Opportunity,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_29">56</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Lines Written on Hearing a Gentleman remark: “God Bless Dear Woman.”</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_30">57</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">My Lady Fair,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_31">58</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">To a Firefly,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_32">59</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">My Old New England Home,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_33">60</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">A Lover’s Lament,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_34">62</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Faces That are Gone,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_35">63</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The True Way,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_36">65</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Pitcher or Jug,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_37">66</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Two Lives,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_38">67</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Meditation,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_39">68</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Tempus Fugit,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_40">70</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Gladness,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_41">71</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Rainbow,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_42">71</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdc" colspan="2">MISCELLANEOUS VERSES.</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Dawn o’ Spring,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_43">75</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Zeeke Bullard’s Farm,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_44">76</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Uncle Nick, on Eddication,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_45">80</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Uncle Nick, on Gossipers,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_46">82</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Art o’ Knowin’ How,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_47">84</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Mother’s Photograph,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_48">86</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Fifty Years,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_49">88</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">A Maiden Wondrous Fair,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_50">89</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Wealth and Want,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_51">92</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Childhood,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_52">93</a></td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Lassie O’er the Way,</td>
+    <td class="tdr"><a href="#poem_53">94</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11">11</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a id="INTRODUCTION"></a>INTRODUCTION.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>Henry Reed Conant was born in Janesville,
+Wis., on the seventeenth day of February,
+1872. When four years of age he removed
+to Vermont, the native state of his parents
+Henry Clay and Dora Evaline (Reed) Conant.
+Henry was educated in the public schools
+and at the Morrisville “People’s Academy,”
+Vermont, and in his fifteenth year returned
+to the west.</p>
+
+<p>He inherited from his New England ancestors
+a deep love of nature, and pronounced
+religious and moral strength, which tinge
+the whole body of his rhymes and poems.
+Like many poets in their juvenile days Mr.
+Conant’s first lines were simple and artless,
+and the world of critics can hardly assail him<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12">12</a></span>
+for penning his first rhymes in honor of his
+“first love,” thus:</p>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Of all the lassies in the land<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">That e’er I chanced to view,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Methinks the fairest one I saw<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Had sparkling eyes of blue.”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<p>His first published poem appeared in a little
+story paper, February, 1890, at Belvidere,
+Ills. Nearly all of Mr. Conant’s poems were
+written in Wisconsin, his native state. The
+selected poems forming this volume reflect
+the young poet’s individuality to a sensible
+degree. The trend of his thoughts and genius
+is toward the more solemn and religious aspects
+of nature, and of human experience.
+He dwells in the forest’s shade, on the banks
+of rivers flowing through lea and woodland,
+by the grave of a little child, and wanders
+back to his old New England home&mdash;to
+the scenes of his childhood.</p>
+
+<p>Henry Reed Conant, like many other beginners
+in the literary arena, commits his poems to
+a critical public with the full consciousness of
+their poetical deficiencies. Criticism he must<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13">13</a></span>
+await, and gladly accept as the basis of that
+future development through which every
+poet must pass ere he attain that popular
+following that is the reward not only of genius,
+but of bitter disappointments.</p>
+
+<p class="sigright">
+A. K. G.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Appleton, Wis., Nov. 22, 1893.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="newpage p4 poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In feelings, not in figures on a dial.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.<br /></span>
+</div>
+<div class="attrib">&mdash;<i>Bailey.</i>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17">17</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2><a id="POEMS"></a><span class="larger">POEMS.</span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_1"><i>LIFE.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18">18</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Life is a race in which all compete,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hastening onward with restless feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eagerly striving for some great prize<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That out in the hidden future lies:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sturdy youth with visions bright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stalwart form of manhood’s might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tottering age, are borne along<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the mighty rush of the endless throng.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the waves of the sea that forever roll<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Tis a livelong race to an unseen goal;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the prize is gained at the end of the strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For it lies just beyond this earthly life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where fears, tribulations and trials cease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the golden realms of eternal peace.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_2"><i>DREAM OF A FAIRY.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19">19</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When all the air was filled with song<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">At morning’s early beam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In musing mood I strolled along<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Beside a placid stream.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And as I roved the meadow sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">What bade my heart rejoice?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was it the daisies at my feet?<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Nay, nor the songster’s voice.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For glancing toward the crystal stream<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">I spied a little child,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon whose brow the morning beam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">With all its beauty smiled:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And on her cheek, so wondrous fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">I saw the ruddy glow,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beheld her locks of flaxen hair<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Wave gently to and fro.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then with delight I nearer drew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But lo! here ends my theme;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I waked&mdash;the fairy fled my view&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">’Twas but a happy dream.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="p2 figcenter" style="width: 70px;">
+<img src="images/dec.jpg" width="70" height="29" alt="decorative tailpiece" />
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20">20</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_3"><i>TOGETHER.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21">21</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">’Neath an aged elm sat a loving pair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A long, long time ago&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A youthful man and a maiden fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With faces all aglow:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The birds’ sweet notes in the boughs above<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the balm of the sweet June weather<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seemed to say, “’Tis the time for love,”<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As they chatted and laughed together.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The years flew by&mdash;an aged pair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sat by an old hearth-stone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With furrowed brows and hoary hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Talking in feeble tone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the happy days they used to know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When, in the gladsome weather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They wandered merrily to and fro,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Talking of love together.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And now the grass grows green on a pair<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of graves, made side by side;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Two hearts are lying in silence there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That once beat with joy and pride.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They shared life’s triumphs, life’s defeats,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thro’ fair and stormy weather,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now they walk the golden streets<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of Paradise&mdash;together.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_4"><i>BE NOT DISCOURAGED.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the clouds hang darkly o’er thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Be thou not discouraged:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the world looks drear before thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Be thou not discouraged:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let thy heart be light and gay;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soon the clouds will pass away:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Tis darkest just before the day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Be thou not discouraged.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22">22</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_5"><i>FOREST DELIGHTS.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23">23</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I love to stroll amid the silent wood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where naught is found to break the quietude,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Except the woodland tenants, or the breeze<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Among the tender ferns and tow’ring trees.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here sports the timid hare in wanton glee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While may be heard from yonder chestnut tree<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The squirrel chirping to its mate near by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which gaily answers with a prompt reply.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here many a brooklet ripples on its way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here countless birds employ their sweetest lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And here and there the startled otter springs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While oft a partridge hies on whirring wings.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What are the palaces of kings and lords<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Compared with all that nature here affords?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These forest charms are dearer to my heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than all the pomp of royalty and art.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_6"><i>PARTING.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24">24</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The deepest sorrow fills the heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To see our loved ones perish;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But soon or late we all must part<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With those we fondly cherish.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The tie must break with friend and friend:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The true and noble-hearted<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Must one day reach their journey’s end,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To join the dear departed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Why mourn we, then, for those who cross<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The intervening river?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Although to us a heavy loss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To them is joy forever.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_7"><i>SONG.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25">25</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Not always the prettiest flowers<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fill the air with the sweetest perfume;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And not always the sweetest singer<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is the bird with the fairest plume.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But the sweetness surpassing all other,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the richest and tenderest strain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rise out of the bosom that knoweth<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The feelings of love and pain.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_8"><i>GOD’S LOVE.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I know where’er my feet may be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Tho’ prone to stray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His watchful eye is over me<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Both night and day.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And tho’ ofttimes this heart has erred<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">’Mid worldly cares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I know His pard’ning ear has heard<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">My humble prayers.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At all times, e’en when I have failed<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">To do His will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His love has in my heart prevailed&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And guides me still.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26">26</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_9"><i>DREAMS.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27">27</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What cloudless scenes of wonder and delight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come to us in the silent realms of night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loved ones we meet, that long have been at rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We grasp their hands and clasp them to our breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Talk with them of the happy days gone by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With not a pang of sorrow nor a sigh:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And everything around looks wondrous fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet flowers of richest hue bloom here and there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On either hand we see unnumbered throngs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of white-robed angels, wafting joyful songs:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And seeing thus, continued glories rise.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our souls are ’rapt in endless Paradise.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But mingled voices touch the sleeper’s ear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lo! how swift the bright scenes disappear!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The morning light beams through the window pane&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dream has fled and day returned again.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28">28</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_10"><i>LINES ON LIFE.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With all the cares and toils that here abound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And e’en deep seas of grief which men must ford&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To him whose guardian is th’ Omnipotent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Life is a source of everlasting joy!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">This world at most is but an anteroom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where souls prepare to take their joyous flight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Heaven’s eternal mansions. Thus the while<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We here remain, is it not meet that we<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should wear the garb of truth and righteousness?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29">29</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_11"><i>WHERE ARE THE HEARTS WE CHERISHED SO?</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30">30</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where are the hearts we cherished so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Who’ve left this earthly main,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gone from kindred circles dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Ne’er to return again?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where gone those aged silvery locks?<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">That sturdy youthful brow?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alas! no sound comes from the grave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Where they’re reposing now!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When troubles here our paths beset.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">When cares and woes assail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We often think of those at rest<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Within that happy Vale;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tho’ we cannot wish them back<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">In this sad world of pain&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O! how we long to catch a glimpse<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Of their dear forms again!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But just beyond the stream which glides<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Between that Land and ours&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where fairer fields are all adorned<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">With never-fading flow’rs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And brighter suns forever shine<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Throughout the golden spheres,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We’ll dwell with those who’ve left us here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Through never-ending years.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="p2 figcenter" style="width: 70px;">
+<img src="images/dec.jpg" width="70" height="29" alt="decorative tailpiece" />
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31">31</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_12"><i>CONTENTMENT.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The isle of contentment we view from afar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it dazzles our eyes like a beautiful star;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A region which thousands gaze wistfully at,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And would dwell there, if ’twasn’t for this or for that.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The lord in his palace, the cotter obscure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The high and the lowly, the rich and the poor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are all discontented whate’er be the case,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because they are not in some other man’s place.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32">32</a></span></p>
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In youth, how we long for mature years of men;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In age, how we sigh for our childhood again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherever our station, whate’er be our lot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We miss countless blessings for joys we have not.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thus, ever thro’ life, from our earliest prime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We look and we long for some happier clime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until the bright portals of Paradise ope,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we soar away home on the pinions of hope.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33">33</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_13"><i>THE TELULAH SPRING.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<blockquote>
+
+<p>A living spring of cool, clear water, on the banks of
+the Fox River, Appleton, Wis.: said to have been first
+discovered by, and named after, a beautiful Indian
+girl by the name of “<span class="smcap">Telulah</span>” who, many years ago,
+lived near the spot.</p></blockquote>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34">34</a><a class="hidev" id="Page_35">35</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I’ve heard it told, that many years ago,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When here deep groves stood in their majesty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere they had felt the white man’s fatal stroke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And peace and happiness breathed over all,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That near this spring an Indian maiden dwelt.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Most beautiful was she, so runs the tale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With tresses like the darkest raven’s coat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And eyes to match their hue. Her lips, ’tis said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Surpassed the reddest berries on the hill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the bright glow which rested on her cheek<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was like the morning beam, or like the rays<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of eve, that ling’ring, paint the western sky.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such was the one, ’tis said, who first beheld<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This living stream of water, cool and clear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Uprising from the bosom of the earth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here many a traveler on his weary way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Mid summer’s heat, retires to cool his brow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And freely drink the ever crystal tide.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And men oppressed with city care and strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stroll hither when the toils of day are o’er;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or when the weary week draws to a close,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon that day when all men cease their toils,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Approach this calm retreat to meditate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On nature’s wonders and the Mighty One<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By Whom all things were formed and still exist.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And happy lovers strolling hand in hand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amid these pleasant bowers, pause to behold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This sparkling fount forever gushing forth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And linger ’round this scene of beauty, which<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still bears the name of that sweet Indian girl.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36">36</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_14"><i>DAYBREAK.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We behold the bright joys of another day’s dawn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As time swiftly flies “like a bird on the wing;”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let’s improve every moment, now, ere it has gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For no one can tell what the next one may bring.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our hopes of the future we never may see;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our days that are past we can never redeem;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But to-day every heart, love and joy may impart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which surpasses the sun’s most radiant beam.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37">37</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_15"><i>TO A BROWN THRUSH</i>,</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p class="p0 center">On finding its nest and young.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38">38</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O little thrush, what gives thee such alarm?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Pray fear thee not, nor think that I am come<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To injure or disturb thy happy home;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy little ones so sweet I ne’er would harm.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy love, like all true parents’ love, is strong&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">At all times anxious for thy young so dear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But put away now ev’ry needless fear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And once again resume thy happy song.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet bird, I wish thee never-ceasing cheer!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who, with devoted love and tender care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Look’st on thy nestlings now so young and fair.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May never cruel enemy come near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Led by blood-thirsty instincts, to destroy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy little home&mdash;now filled with peace and joy.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_16"><i>HOPE.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ne’er lose thy courage, tho’ dark seems the strife;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The blackest night dies with the golden dawn:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let not thy hope cease while there still is life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For Hope is what the world is living on!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39">39</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_17"><i>THE ANGEL OF HOME.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What visions of happiness often steal o’er me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As back to my childhood in fancy I roam;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the picture that mem’ry paints brightest before me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is mother, dear mother,&mdash;the angel of home.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No love’s like a mother’s, so true and so tender,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">No love’s so enduring ’neath heaven’s broad dome;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And not all earth’s wealth with its pomp and its splendor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Could steal my affection from mother and home.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40">40</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_18"><i>TO MY SISTER.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">May still thy deeds of innocence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Like stars of heaven, shine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thou retain thy purity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Till Heaven itself is thine!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_19"><i>WOMAN.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The fairest flower that all our path adorns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The loveliest rose amidst the cruel thorns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The brightest star that shines in man’s abode,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sweetest gift that Heaven e’er bestowed!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41">41</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_20"><i>THE FOX RIVER.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42">42</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O beautiful river,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">How gently among<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fields and the forests<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thou glidest along!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">’Mid thy pleasant valleys<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And cool shady bow’rs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grow tall fragrant grasses<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And bright blooming flow’rs.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">By day o’er thy waters<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sun beameth bright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And stars ever twinkle<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Above thee by night.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And never complaining<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thou flowest along<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Mid nature’s wide province<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With laughter and song:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Content with thy mission<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In nature’s great plan;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And such is thy lesson<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thou teachest to man.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_21"><i>A LITTLE GRAVE.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sweetly sing, ye little songsters;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Smile, ye happy skies;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Softly blow, ye wanton breezes&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Here an infant lies!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Brightly bloom, ye tinted flowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Wafting sweet perfume;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gently fall, ye summer showers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">On this little tomb.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43">43</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_22">AUTUMN DAYS.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44">44</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The summer joys are fleeting fast<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">From forest, field and glen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And soon shall winter’s piercing blast<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Sweep o’er the earth again.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How lovely were the bright spring flow’rs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">That decked the landscape o’er;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now we see, on fields and bow’rs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Their dainty forms no more.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The leaves are falling in the wind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">From many a lofty height,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And birds are calling to their kind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Upon their farewell flight.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But still, how cheering is the thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">When other joys have flown;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That the little snow-bird leaves us not,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">But chirps till winter’s gone.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_23"><i>IN HEAVEN.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45">45</a><a class="hidev" id="Page_46">46</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">One pleasant day in June a little thrush<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lit on a bough close by my window pane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as the streams from living fountains gush,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Poured forth its sweetest strain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My heart then felt released from every care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And seemed to rise toward Heaven’s enchanted zone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When soon the music ceased, and looking there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I saw the bird had flown.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And then the thought came to me of the one<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who left me when so youthful and so fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who in the light of Heaven’s unsetting sun<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lives with the angels there.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I little thought, ere those sweet smiles were gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That she so soon must heed the angel’s call;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But all the way He led her safely on<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who marks the sparrow’s fall.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And some day, when life’s billows cease to roar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And here no more my weary feet shall roam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our souls shall be conjoined forevermore<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In Heaven’s eternal home.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_24"><i>IDLENESS.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Make some good use of ev’ry space of time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In idleness are sown the seeds of crime;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man’s erring mind, allured by passions strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Begins pursuing here the path of wrong;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And heedless of the peril just ahead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Step after step proceeds with fearless tread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till ruin comes with overwhelming power&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bitter fate of many an idle hour!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47">47</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_25"><i>THE RIVER.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48">48</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Out from the shady woodland,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">With song and laughter free;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down from the sunny hillside,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And over the flow’ry lea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Floweth the restless river,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">On its journey to the sea.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Over the silvery pebbles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Sparkling like morning dew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whether in light or darkness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Doth ever its course pursue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till it gains the mighty ocean<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">With waters vast and blue.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And thus are <span class="smcap smaller">WE</span> traveling onward,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">’Tis Hope by which we’re borne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And our hearts beat with triumphant gladness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">As we dream of some brighter dawn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With sights that are nobler and grander,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And we journey on and on.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And up from the earth’s dark bosom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Like the homeward flight of a dove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On Hope’s majestic pinions<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">We soar to the realms above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To lave forever and ever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">In the sea of Eternal Love.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="p2 figcenter" style="width: 70px;">
+<img src="images/dec.jpg" width="70" height="29" alt="decorative tailpiece" />
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49">49</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_26"><i>THE CROWN OF FAME.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50">50</a><a class="hidev" id="Page_51">51</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What toils and hardships oft confront man’s sight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When first ascending fame’s immortal height:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What cares, vexations, worriments prevail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What deep-laid plans, repeated efforts, fail;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet who would dwell in hermit den, obscure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To shun the toils that hero-gods endure!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bestir thyself, O man, for soon&mdash;too soon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As youth recedes, shall fade life’s golden noon!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If thou wouldst make thyself undying name,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Direct thy efforts to one worthy aim;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let each exertion then be wrought with zeal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor faint if woe come where thou look’st for weal;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But toil thou on, nor fear the world’s dark frown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till firm upon the summit of renown.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whatever good, perchance, thy toils, may greet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lose not thyself in folly’s vain conceit:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">False pride to lowest degradation tends&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It leads to vice and vice to crime descends;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As tiny rills, that from the mountain flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pursue their course to larger streams below,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till seas are joined where mighty billows roll,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So pride goes onward till it wrecks the soul;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus by degrees the downward course begins,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And greatest evils rise from little sins.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor seek thy fame ’mid pompous scenes of art,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where vice and folly oft inure the heart:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Tis Right eternal kindles honor’s flame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And crowns Man’s efforts with immortal Fame.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="p2 figcenter" style="width: 70px;">
+<img src="images/dec.jpg" width="70" height="29" alt="decorative tailpiece" />
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52">52</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_27"><i>ELEGY</i>,</h2>
+</div>
+
+<blockquote>
+
+<p class="p0 center">On the death of Hon. C.&nbsp;B. Clark, member of Congress
+from 1887 to 1891, for Wisconsin district No. 6,
+(now No. 8.) Died Sept. 10th, 1891.</p></blockquote>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Well may the throngs in countless numbers weep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bereft of such a great and noble man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For brilliant was the course of life he ran,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But now he lies in everlasting sleep.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He lived a life exempt from selfish pride;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He never turned a stranger from his door;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">He ne’er refused to aid the needful poor;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He proved to youth a never-failing guide.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_53">53</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Alas! we mourn, with aching in our breast<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And eyelids moistened with the burning tear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The loss of one, so generous and sincere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now silent in his sweet and peaceful rest.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_28"><i>A REVERIE.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O glad shall I be when the winter is ended,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When the wild sweeping blasts of the season are gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the last flakes of snow to the ground have descended,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the drifts have all vanished from meadow and lawn.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54">54</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O glad shall I be when these cold days are over,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the bright joys of summer are with us again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the meadows are blooming with sweet-scented clover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the warm sun is smiling on new fields of grain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O glad shall I be, when as free as the air<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The birds are all singing their merriest lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To remind me of days when I knew naught of care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the seasons all seemed like a long summer day.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O spring! merry spring! with thy fragrance of flowers,<br /></span><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55">55</a></span>
+<span class="i2">To thee from my sorrows I longingly turn;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I’ll forget the drear scenes of these long winter hours,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And dream of thy blessings and happy return.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="p2 figcenter" style="width: 70px;">
+<img src="images/dec.jpg" width="70" height="29" alt="decorative tailpiece" />
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56">56</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_29"><i>OPPORTUNITY.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Time is ever swiftly fleeting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Unimproved by scores of men;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Opportunities are passing<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That we’ll never have again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Many things we may accomplish,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As the hours go speeding on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If we but improve each moment,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ere the precious time is gone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There are many hearts about us,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That a loving word might cheer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There are many dear ones with us,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That ere long may not be here:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let us then be wise and thoughtful,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As our course we journey on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Striving for the good of others<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ere the precious time is gone.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_57">57</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_30"><i>LINES</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<blockquote>
+
+<p class="p0 center">Written on hearing a gentleman remark: “God bless
+dear woman.”</p></blockquote>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“God bless dear woman!” did I hear you say?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Full many a man might wisely thus remark!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How oft her smiles have cheered man’s troubled way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And comfort brought when fortune’s sky was dark&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The vine that clings unto the oak, whose bark<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is coarse and rough and void of pleasing grace;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And like a dove within the cheerless Ark,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mid life’s drear scenes we see her sweetly face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in God’s best design, there love and beauty trace!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58">58</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_31"><i>MY LADY FAIR.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_59">59</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When aged winter, fierce and grim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Had ceased his surly reign,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And virgin spring again adorned<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The forest, field and plain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One morning when the sun was bright<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And music filled the air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I wandered o’er the meadow sweet<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Beside my lady fair!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We strolled along ’mid blooming flow’rs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till ’neath a spreading tree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We sat where swift the raptured hours<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Flew o’er my love and me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when at last time bade us part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I kissed those lips so sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And little dreamed but we should still<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oft thus together meet.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But us the stars of heav’n depart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When dawn her glory brings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One morn the angels bore her off<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Upon their snowy wings!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet, in the golden realms above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I trust some day to see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With endless joy, the one who made<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This earth a Heaven to me!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_32"><i>TO A FIRE-FLY.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Blithesome insect, gently flying<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Thro’ the shades of night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As we see thy rays of brightness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">May our hopes be bright;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tho’ with life’s cares encompass’d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">May our hearts be light.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_60">60</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_33"><i>MY OLD NEW ENGLAND HOME.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_61">61</a><a class="hidev" id="Page_62">62</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the stars above, in gladness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Twinkle thro’ the evening gloam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a mingled joy and sadness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Often do my fancies roam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Backward to the vanished pleasures<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Of my old New England home.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In that home I see my mother&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Of all earthly friends the best&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At her side my younger brother,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">With his youthful pleasures blest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And my little brown-eyed sister,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Sleeping on her mother’s breast.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And within that sacred dwelling<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Father’s cheerful face I see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I hear him kindly telling<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Us to ever loyal be;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the battle-field he perished,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">When they made our country free.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When he went away, our mother<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Safely led our little band,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she taught us of another<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Loving Father, whose strong hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Never would forsake his children,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">If they heeded His command:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Taught us, in our youth and beauty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Ne’er to turn our feet aside<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the paths of truth and duty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Whatsoever might betide;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But to keep the path of wisdom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And obey our Heavenly guide.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Back to home and all its pleasures<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Often do my fancies roam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to me, the richest treasures<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Under heaven’s starry dome,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were the blessings of my childhood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">In that old New England home.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_34"><i>A LOVER’S LAMENT.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_63">63</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As lillies, arrayed in their loveliness, fade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So faded my fairest&mdash;my love:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My joys have all fled, for my darling is dead&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O Stella! My dearest, my dove!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The loveliest flowers, in this sad world of ours,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Are soonest from us to depart&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are first to decay; and thus faded away<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The tenderest joy of my heart.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My hopes, once so bright, have all taken their flight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For gone is my beautiful dove:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I’m weary with grief, and shall ne’er find relief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Till I rest with my darling above.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_35"><i>FACES THAT ARE GONE.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_64">64</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How we long to see the faces<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That have crossed the silent tide&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faces marked with care and sorrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Faces full of joy and pride;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some with furrowed brow and hoary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Some in youth’s lamented bloom;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One by one from us departed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For the cold and silent tomb.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Birds employ their notes of gladness<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As they flutter to and fro,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Flow’rs display their wealth of beauty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As they used to long ago;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the birds may sing forever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the flow’rs forever bloom;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They can ne’er bring back the faces<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That are hidden in the tomb!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Silently death steals upon us,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Silently time speedeth on&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soon we, too, shall all be numbered,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With the faces that are gone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each and all must shortly follow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Thro’ the shadows and the gloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the loved ones who are waiting<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the light beyond the tomb.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_65">65</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_36"><i>THE TRUE WAY.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_66">66</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We know that we’re stubborn and willful,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And tho’ we have kindly been shown<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The true way, which God has appointed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We often go on in our own.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And thus we go on in the darkness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Groping our way thro’ the night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unmindful ofttimes of His goodness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And missing His glorious light.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But still He looks down with compassion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And e’en thro’ life’s greatest alarms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We’re sheltered and safely protected,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As weak little lambs in His arms.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Could we but have more of His goodness<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Implanted each day in our heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perhaps there are others about us<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Who’d feel the rich joy we’d impart.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Could our love, every day, be to others<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As the love from our Maker above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O what a grand army of brothers<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Would be banded together in love!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_37"><i>PITCHER OR JUG.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Which brings poverty and woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which makes useless tears to flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which brings scorn where’er we go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Pitcher or jug?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Which fades beauty, health and bloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which turns happiness to gloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which leads to the drunkard’s tomb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Pitcher or jug?<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_67">67</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_38"><i>TWO LIVES.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">They started out together<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Amid the worldly din;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One yielded to temptation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And lived a life of sin:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They found his lifeless body<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">One pleasant summer dawn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All mangled in the gutter&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A wretched life was gone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The other trod the pathway<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Of righteousness and truth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And kept his soul as spotless<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">As in his early youth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when his voyage was ended,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">On Heaven’s blissful shore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He joined the great reunion,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Where parting is no more.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_68">68</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_39"><i>MEDITATION.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_69">69</a><a class="hidev" id="Page_70">70</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">’Mid scenes of mystery life’s tide rolls onward;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tho’ some, delving deep in caves of knowledge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have revealed wondrous facts, this life, concerning,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still blind they are to most of life’s great features;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How powerless to perceive the future’s movements,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or e’en explain the present things about them!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We little more than know that we’re existing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Mid scenes that time and tide are changing ever.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Hope</i> is a star that lures men ever onward,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oft seeming near and yet forever distant;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Contentment</i> is an isle where man, if ever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has seldom dwelt amid the scenes enchanting;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Love</i> is a dew-drop on the rose-bush glowing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soon to depart as e’en the bush must perish:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All things of earth are like the fleeting shadows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Except the love of Him whose power and wisdom<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Exceeds, by far, man’s deepest understanding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And He, who clothes the lillies in their beauty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who feeds his flocks and marks the falling sparrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will shield His children from life’s raging tempests,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lead them safe through waters of affliction<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until, at last, beyond the vales and shadows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their eyes behold that Land of endless beauty.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_40"><i>TEMPUS FUGIT.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_71">71</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Men sleep, but time speeds on;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sun comes out at dawn<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">O’er hill and town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">At eve goes down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But ever time speeds on.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Men die&mdash;the world moves on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when our forms are gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">New hearts arise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To seek earth’s prize;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus the world moves on.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_41"><i>GLADNESS.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let thy heart, attuned to gladness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Every fear and doubt dispel&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Banish idle thoughts of sadness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Then shall joy thy bosom swell.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_42"><i>THE RAINBOW.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Howe’er dark the clouds may hover<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">O’er thy pathway, ne’er repine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mark thou, when the storm is over,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">In the heaven that beautious line!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<div class="p8 figcenter" style="width: 338px;">
+<img src="images/dec2.jpg" width="338" height="41" alt="decorative border" />
+
+<h2 class="nobreak p1" id="Miscellaneous_Verses"><span class="smcap"><span class="larger">Miscellaneous Verses.</span></span></h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 338px;">
+<img src="images/dec3.jpg" width="338" height="42" alt="decorative border" />
+</div>
+
+<h3 class="newpage pad4"><a id="NOTE"></a>NOTE.</h3>
+
+<p>My first intention was to omit the
+following pieces from this publication,
+but on recommendation of several
+readers I have finally decided to place
+them in a seperate department; expecting
+in either case&mdash;whether included in this
+book or omitted&mdash;that the youthful
+aspirant, in this attempt to flutter out
+into the literary sphere, will fall headlong
+and be left only to dream of those
+glorious heights where others triumphantly
+soar amid the silvery clouds of
+fancy.</p>
+
+<p class="sigright">
+H. R. C.
+</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_75">75</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_43"><i>THE DAWN O’ SPRING.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_76">76</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yes, boys, I’m waitin’ patiently to see the dawn o’ spring&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see the flowers in blossom an’ to hear the robins sing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An’ to see the trees an’ meadows clad in garbs o’ livin’ green;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An’ to hear the merry music o’ the brook thet flows between.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It makes me fairly home-sick sech cold wintry days ez these,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The snow a driftin’ everywhere an’ layin’ in the trees;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An’ when Jack Frost steals ’round et night an’ frescoes everything,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It makes me hanker more an’ more to see the dawn o’ spring.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fer I know when spring comes ’round ag’in with all her sweet perfume;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her reses all in blossom an’ her orchards all a-bloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An’ robins singin’ gaily&mdash;I’ll be happy ez a king;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thet’s why I’m waitin’ patiently to see the dawn o’ spring.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_44"><i>ZEEKE BULLARD’S FARM.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_77">77</a><a class="hidev" id="Page_78">78</a><br /><a id="Page_79">79</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Zeeke Bullard wuz a farmer of no great amount of worth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tho’ his farm wuz well supplied with miles of rich, productive earth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fer he owned three hundred acres, so his frien’s an’ neighbors sed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But he uster say thet money wuz a thing he never hed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He’d groan about his losses, an’ his scarcity of tin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An’ he of’en sed he wondered w’y his crops were all so thin;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He’d set aroun’ frum morn till night till days an’ weeks ’ud pass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An’ talk about the way he’d lose his grain an’ garden sass.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The ’tater bugs in multitudes ’ud come frum all aroun’,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till nothin’ in his Murphy patch wuz left abuv the groun’;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Insects of all descriptions thronged aroun’ his garden beds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While worms with powerful appetites devoured his cabbage heads.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The crows ’ud come day after day to steal his yaller corn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An’ dine on oats an’ barley till his fiel’s were nearly shorn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An’ acre after acre where his clover oughter grow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There wa’n’t but giant thistles pintin’ daggers high an’ low.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">An’ when his crops were harvested by bugs an’ worms an’ crows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An’ wintry blasts were comin’ on, his sons were void of clo’es;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In spite of all the mendin’ thet his little wife could do,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The toes an’ knees an’ elbows of his boys were peekin’ thro’.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A while ago I left thet place of farmin’ enterprise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An’ now my folks are livin’ ’neath the broad, blue western skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An’ tho’ I ain’t a farmer I’m convinced there’s nothin’ made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unless you work et farmin’, same ez any other trade.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Weeds don’t need cultervatin’, but they grow up tall an’ stout,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An’ you mus’ work to save the grain an keep the thistles out:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You can’t loaf ’round frum morn till night an’ talk the hull day thro’,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For yer crops’ll go to ruin jest ez surely ez you do.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="tb">* <span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">* </span><span class="in2">*</span></div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I’ve jest received a letter frum an ol’-time friend of mine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who sed poor Zeeke wuz dwellin’ where bright crowns of glory shine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He’d quit the farmin’ business an’ wuz free frum worl’ly harm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While his seven sons were lef’ to raise the mortgage on his farm.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_80">80</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_45"><i>UNCLE NICK, ON EDDICATION.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_81">81</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">While ’tendin’ skool I uster be fust class et playin’ ball,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Et playin’ tag er leap-frog I wuz formost of ’em all;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sech sportin’ allus hed fer me a wondrous fascination,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An’ so I spent more time et this than on my eddication.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I of’en git to thinkin’ what fine chances I hed then<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To git an’ eddication, but of course it’s useless when<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The opportunity is passed to mourn yer situation&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It’s pooty hard when you are ol’ to git an eddication.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Now boys I’m ’fraid thet some o’ you are growin’ up this way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I’m ’fraid fer learnin’ some o’ you are substertootin’ play,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I’m ’fraid there’s boys a-livin’ in this present gineration,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who’ll wish some day they’d seen less play an’ more o’ eddication.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You can’t keep waitin’, thinkin’ thet you’ve got a lot o’ time,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The time to git yer schoolin’, boys, is while you’re in yer prime;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When you are ol’ you’ll see enough o’ care an’ tribulation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without the thought thet carelessly you missed an eddication.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_82">82</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_46"><i>UNCLE NICK, ON GOSSIPERS.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_83">83</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When people git to gossipin’ sometimes they’ll set an’ talk<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fer hours an’ hours together, jest ez reg’ler ez a clock;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I s’pose they think folks love to hear their never-endin’ yop,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when Samantha’s talked a while she knows enough to stop.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When Mrs. Jones wuz tellin’ et our place the other day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thet Mrs. Williams told her thet her neighbor, Mrs. Gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sed she never saw so big a story-teller’s Widder Heath&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Samantha set there quiet, with her tongue between her teeth.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She ain’t ferever slingin’ out sech everlastin’ gab:&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She of’en sez “it’s bad enough to hear the neighbors blab;”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But she jest stays et home instid an’ ’tends to fam’ly cares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An’ never tells the neighborhood about her home affairs.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We don’t take any papers, but with news we’re well supplied;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fer the neighbors tell us every birth an’ death an’ suicide:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Mrs. Jones comes up our walk a-squeakin’ them new shoes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sometimes Samantha’ll say to me, “here comes the daily news.”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_84">84</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_47"><i>THE ART O’ KNOWIN’ HOW.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_85">85</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It’s hard to write a decent song, tho’ maybe you deny it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Most any job looks easy you’ll allow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But if you’re inexperienced perhaps you’d better try it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An’ you’ll find the nickromancy’s in the art o’ knowin’ how.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There’s lots o’ things you’ve never done that looks all killin’ easy&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Did you ever try to milk a kickin’ cow?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If not, just try yer hand fer fun, to satisfy and please ye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An’ you’ll find the nickromancy’s in the art o’ knowin’ how.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Whatever yer profession, you’ll discover soon or late,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As you stop to wipe the sweat from off yer brow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That to preach a decent sermon er to draw a furrow straight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The nickromancy lies within the art o’ knowin’ how.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So be sure thet you’re adapted to the work thet you profess,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Teachin’ gospel truths er hangin’ on the plow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then buckle down to business, an’ yer can’t escape success,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fer you’ll find the nickromancy’s in the art o’ knowin’ how.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_86">86</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_48"><i>MOTHER’S PHOTOGRAPH.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_87">87</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">D’you wish to know what came to me from good ol’ Santa Claus?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Twuz not a lot o’ nigger-toes to crack between yer jaws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor candy nor a jumpin’-jack fer makin’ youngsters laugh&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the present thet he give to me wuz mother’s photograph.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some how a cur’ous feelin’ seems to steal acrost my mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ez I look back to boyish days an’ think how good an’ kind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thet mother’s been in teachin’ me to shun the evil ways,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An’ how attentive she hez been, e’en from my infant days.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">An’ when I think how many years she’s toiled thro’ shine and rain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An’ how she’s allus been on hand to soothe my every pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It seems ez ef to do my best thet I could never be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Half good an’ kind enough to pay fer all she’s done fer me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Perhaps you think it’s silly, but it’s jest ez I hev sed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thet all the other presents ol’ St. Nicholas ever hed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Compared with that he give to me w’ud be but worthless chaff,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor comfort me one half ez much ez mother’s photograph.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_88">88</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_49"><i>FIFTY YEARS.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_89">89</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Two score and ten summers have glided away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As time speeds relentlessly on;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And our thoughts wander back, as we sit here to-day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O’er the past that has faded and gone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Many dear ones have gone to their rest in the grave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Young hearts have departed from play;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still others have gone, their dear country to save,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And fall’n ’mid the wild battle’s fray.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Many dear to our hearts are now far in the west,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While few near the old home remain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And though often lonely, we’ve been greatly blest,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our labors have not been in vain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">’Tis fifty long years since the day which we set,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our sorrows and pleasures to share;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That bright, happy day we ne’er shall forget,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When life looked so joyous and fair!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_50"><i>A MAIDEN WONDROUS FAIR.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_90">90</a><a class="hidev" id="Page_91">91</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Within a certain town there dwelt<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">A maiden wondrous fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose cheeks were like the rose’s hue<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And golden was her hair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her eyes were like the twinkling stars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Her teeth were like the pearl;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sons of both the rich and poor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Admired this charming girl.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Two constant beaus this maiden had,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And each one swore that she,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ere many months had passed away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">His own dear wife would be.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But soon an incident occurred<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Which all their plans upset,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When at the maiden’s gate one eve<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Her two admirers met.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hard words arose between the two,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">As oft there had before;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that the maid should be his wife<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Still each persistent swore.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The longer thus they did contend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">The more their wrath did rise;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until at last they came to blows<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">O’er who should have the prize.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">While thus engaged, a prim young man<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">With unpretentious mien<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Approached, just as the maid herself<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Appeared upon the scene.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then soon the angry blows were ceased<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And quietude restored;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And each apologized to her<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Whom he so much adored.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then bowing low, each went his way;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Quite black and swollen-eyed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While she whom they had fought to win<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Became the third man’s bride.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_92">92</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_51"><i>WEALTH AND WANT.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_93">93</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How often the poor are despised and neglected,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For no other reason except they are poor;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How often the rich are beloved and respected,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Because they have uncounted wealth at their door.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There’s many an honest and virtuous heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To-day within poverty’s prison enchained;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While thousands reside amid pleasures of art,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose wealth was thro’ vice and dishonesty gained.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Despise not the needy because they are poor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor envy the wealthy because of their gold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Good or ill fortune may stand at our door,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But true hearts are not to be purchased or sold.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_52"><i>CHILDHOOD.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_94">94</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We long for those days, once so joyous,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For that unbounded freedom, again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When there were no cares to annoy us,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And life knew no sorrow nor pain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But those sweet days of childhood have vanished,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And we long for them only in vain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Tho’ time has wrought changes unnumbered<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Since those happy seasons were pass’d,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now with life’s cares we’re encumbered,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Still backward fond visions we’ll cast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we’ll think of our childhood with pleasure<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As long as our memories last.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 id="poem_53"><i>THE LASSIE O’ER THE WAY.</i></h2>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_95">95</a></span></p><div class="poem-container">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A sweet little lassie<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Lives over the way:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She’s pretty and modest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet blithesome and gay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So perfect her manners,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">So graceful her mien;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O who would not worship<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This fair little queen!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Is there a young laddie<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose heart would not beat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For those smiles so angelic<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And dimples so sweet:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Those blue eyes a-sparkling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That bright golden hair!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O where’s the young lassie<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">More charming and fair!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She’s modest and gentle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Yet cheerful and gay;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This sweet little lassie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Just over the way.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<div class="transnote">
+<h2 class="nobreak p1"><a id="Transcribers_Note"></a>Transcriber’s Note</h2>
+
+<p>Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a predominant
+preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.</p>
+
+<p>Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unbalanced
+quotation marks retained.</p>
+
+<p>All of the illustrations are the same simple decoration.</p>
+
+<p>“Telulah Spring”, listed as the Frontispiece in the Contents, was
+missing from the original book.</p>
+
+<p>“<a href="#NOTE">Note</a>” at beginning of <a href="#Miscellaneous_Verses">“Miscellaneous Verses”</a>: “seperate” was printed that way.</p>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems, by Henry Reed Conant
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+</body>
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author	nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>	2025-02-05 19:22:34 -0800
committer	nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>	2025-02-05 19:22:34 -0800
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