T5 
 
 2702 
 .352 
 
Class PS ^ 70 2- 
 
 I'liKSKNTHl) liY 
 
_ (^ft^wt*^ "W^fet^'^^gw. 
 
Berder PublishinO Company 
 ^ Buffalo* ^ ^ 
 
 c N.Y. 
 
MY doctcrn is to lay aside 
 Contensions, and be satisfied : 
 Jest do your best, and praise er blame 
 That foUers that, counts jest the same. 
 My Philosofy. 
 
 Then God smiled and it was morning. 
 
 Leonainie. 
 
 As it's give' me to perceive, 
 
 I most certin'y believe 
 When a mans jist glad plum through, 
 
 God's pleased with him, same as 
 
 you. 
 
 Neghborly Poems, 
 
 Alius a-reachin' out, Jim was, and 
 a^he'pin' some 
 Pore feller onto his feet — 
 He'd a^never a-keered how hungry 
 he was hisse'f . 
 So's the feller got somepin to eatl 
 ."^ :: Jim. 
 
 Copyright, 1907, by Berger Publishing ^Companj^ 
 
 
 -^'-^\k>6^v 
 
OLOVE is like an untamed steed 1 
 So hot of heart 
 
 and wild of speed. 
 And with fierce freedom so in love. 
 The desert is not vast enough. 
 With all its leagues of glimmering 
 sands. 
 
 To pasture it I 
 
 Bedouin. 
 
 The fairest scenes wc ever see 
 Are miratges of memory ; 
 The sweetest thoughts we ever know 
 We plagiarize from Long-ago. 
 
 Orhe Wilde. 
 
 "Whatever the weather may be," 
 says he — 
 
 " Whatever the weather may be. 
 
 It's the songs ye sing, an' the smiles 
 ye wear. 
 
 That's a-makin' the sun shine every- 
 where." 
 
 Says He. 
 
'*<^ I IE is my friend," I said,— 
 
 * ^ "Be patient ! " Overhead 
 
 The skies \A^ere drear and dim ; 
 
 And lo ! ihe thought of him 
 
 Smiled on my heart — and then 
 
 The sun shone out again 1 
 
 My FrieKd. 
 
 We aire not always glad when we 
 
 smile, — 
 
 For the heart, in a tempest of pain, 
 
 May live in the guise 
 
 Of a smile in the eyes 
 
 As a rainboNA/ may live in the rain ; 
 
 And the storrraest night of our woe 
 
 May hang out a radiant star 
 
 Whose light in the sky 
 
 Of despair is a lie 
 
 As black as the thunder- clouds are 
 Spirk and Wunk Rhymes, 
 
THERE is ever a song some^ 
 where, my dear,— 
 There is ever a something sings 
 alway. 
 There's the song of the lark when 
 the skies arc clear. 
 And the song of the thrush when 
 the skies are gray. 
 There is Ever a Song Somewhere. 
 
 O the days gone by! O the days 
 
 gone by I 
 The music of the laughing lip, the 
 
 lustre of the eye 
 The childish faith in fairies and 
 
 Alladdin's magic ring — 
 The simple, soul- reposing, glad belief 
 
 in everything.— 
 When life was like a story, holding 
 
 neither sob nor sigh. 
 
 In the golden, olden glory of the days 
 
 gone by. 
 
 The Days Gone By. 
 
WAIT for the morning :— It will 
 come indeed. 
 As surely as the night hath given need. 
 The yearning eyes, at last, will strain 
 
 their sight 
 No more unanswered by the morning 
 
 light; 
 No longer will they vainly strive, 
 
 through tears. 
 To pierce the darkness of thy doubts 
 
 and fears. 
 But, bathed in balmy dews and rays 
 
 of dawn. 
 Will smile with rapture o'er the 
 
 darkness drawn. 
 
 JVaii for the Morning. 
 
 I've alius noticed grate success 
 Is mixed with troubles, more or less. 
 And it's the man who does the best 
 That gits more kicks than all the rest. 
 My Philosofy — Neghborly Poems. 
 
OH! the old s\A/immin''hole! In 
 the happy days of yore. 
 When I ust to lean above it on the 
 
 old sickamore, 
 Oh! it showed me a face, in its 
 
 warm, sunny tide. 
 That gazed back at me so gay and 
 
 glorified. 
 It made me love myself, as I leaped 
 
 to caress 
 My shadder smilin up at me with 
 
 sich tenderness. 
 But them days is past and gone, and 
 
 old Time's tuck his toll 
 From the old man come back to the 
 
 old swimmin 'hole. 
 
 The Old Swimmin^ -Hole. 
 
 He was warned ag'inst the wontern^ 
 She was warned ag'inst the man,^ 
 
 And if that won't make a weddin', 
 W'y, they's nothin' else that can ! 
 On a Splendud Match. 
 
OTHE rain and the sun, and the 
 sun and the rain I 
 r When the tempest is done, then the 
 I sunshine again ; 
 
 And in rapture we'll ride through the 
 
 stormiest gales. 
 For God's hand's on the helm and 
 His breath in the sails. 
 
 Then murmur no more. 
 In lull or in roar. 
 But smile and be brave till the voyage 
 
 is o'er. 
 
 A Song of the Cruise. 
 
 For, we know, not every morrow 
 
 Can be sad ; 
 So, forgetting all the sorrow 
 
 We have had. 
 
 Let us fold away our fears. 
 
 And put by our foolish tears. 
 
 And through all the coming years 
 
 Just be glad. 
 
 Kissing the Rod. 
 
 ^ti^S^^^^^ 
 
yyV /HO'S got the lovin eye, and 
 V V heart and brain 
 To recko'nize 'at nothin's made in 
 
 vain — 
 'At the Good Bein' made the bees 
 
 and birds 
 
 And brutes first choice, and us-folks 
 
 afterwards ! 
 
 Ft oetn— Poems Here at Home, 
 
 Now Love's as cunnin a little thing 
 As a hummingbird upon the wing. 
 And as liable to poke his nose 
 Jest where folks would least suppose. 
 Squire Hawkins's Story, 
 
 My mother she's so good to mc, 
 Ef I was good as I could be, 
 1 couldn't be as good — no, sir /— 
 Can't any boy be good as her I 
 
 A Boys Mother. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 016 255 941 2