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 INDEX. 
 
 Page. 
 
 Introductory 6 
 
 Teacher's Recommendation 6 
 
 How My Prophecy on McKinley Came 7 
 
 Prophecy on McKinley 8 
 
 Letters from General Alger and President McKinley. . 9 
 
 To All Beware of the Day 10 
 
 Our Melancholy Day 11 
 
 Judge Not a Man By the Garments He May Wear 11 
 
 The Mysterious Clock 12 
 
 Christmas Time 13 
 
 1901 POEMS. 
 
 The Broken Pane of Glass 13 
 
 The Old Cap 14 
 
 The Dude and the Bard 14 
 
 The Huskin' Bee 15 
 
 Death of Little Old Penny 16 
 
 1907. 
 
 Tom and Rosa's Wedding Day 17 
 
 Arthur and Ida's Wedding Night 18 
 
 1912. 
 
 A City's Pride 19 
 
 Prophecy on Wilson 19 
 
 Fell by the Wayside 21 
 
 What Is To Be Will Be 22 
 
 War Devils 23 
 
 War is Hell 24 
 
 The City of the Dead 24 
 
 A Martyr 25 
 
 Peace 25 
 
 A Sweet Sunshine Smile 26 
 
 1913. 
 
 A Mystery in a Box 20 
 
 A Little Child Was My Friend 20 
 
To Whom It May Concern : This is to certify that 
 I have known Charles L. Domine for the past thir- 
 teen years, during which time he has been continu- 
 ously engaged in District No. 5 of this township, 
 teaching the public school of said district with abil- 
 ity and success. He has also held the office of Su- 
 perintendent of Schools in this township for two 
 terms with credit and honor. I can heartily recom- 
 mend him to any school board as a diligent and ener- 
 getic worker in the school room. 
 Respectfully, 
 
 Signed :— ISAAC N. SAVAGE, 
 
 Superintendent of Schools, Erwin Township, Macomb 
 
 County, Michigan. 
 
 Dated at Roseville, October 18th, 1880. 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 Little did I think when I published my little 
 pamphlet of poems in 1896, that I ever would again 
 publish any of my poems. In my declining years I 
 have met with adversity. 
 
 Such is my sad fate 
 
 At the age of nearly sixty-eight. 
 
 The joy of my heart, the pride of my life, my blind 
 
 and helpless wife. 
 She was my guide, my comforter in my pathway of 
 
 life. 
 
 But I decided to publish this little book of my 
 poems. I was not born a poet. I knew little about 
 poetry, and much less about composing poetry, but 
 at the age of forty-seven I received an inspiration 
 to write poetry. (A mystery.) 
 
 My poems are all impromptu, written or recited 
 on the spur of the moment; hence if you notice any 
 grammatical errors or other errors please pass over 
 them lightly. 
 
 TEACHER'S RECOMMENDATION. 
 
 Settled on a forest home in the fall of 1880. By 
 hardships carved a comfortable little house from the 
 forest five and one-half miles from Traverse City, in 
 East Bay township ; lived on the farm until the fall 
 of 1908, when my wife became a helpless and blind 
 invalid, so to give her the best of care, we lived in 
 Traverse City. 
 
 The little farm was sold one March day, 
 
 Where our life's savings went is a mystery today. 
 
 "Peace and a sweet sunshine-smile to all of thee." 
 CHARLES L. DOMINE, 
 
 "Bard of East Bay." 
 P. 0. Address, 220 East Front Street, Traverse City, 
 Michigan. 
 
This is the first poem composed by me. From the 
 pamphlet of 1896 poems. 
 
 HOW MY PROPHECY ON McKINLEY CAME. 
 
 Two years ago at the dark, dismal time of midnight 
 I got up from a sick bed McKinley phophecy to 
 
 write, 
 An unknown hand seemed to guide mine that is 
 
 right. 
 I trembled, shuddered ; I went to sleep in a fright. 
 
 In visions I could see the poor and destitute of the 
 
 land 
 Crying and appealing for Protection's helping hand. 
 I could see them gathering around McKinley at the 
 
 stand. 
 Fluttering of handkerchiefs, hurrah, hurrah, for you 
 
 we band ! 
 
 In visions I could see them leave their work undone. 
 They came from the. hillside and plains, saying, "To 
 
 vote we come." 
 In the horizon in the red sky at setting sun, 
 These letters I see, McKINLEY has won ! 
 
Second poem composed by me. From pamphlet of 
 1896 poems. 
 
 PROPHECY ON McKINLEY. 
 
 Here is to McKinley, little Napoleon, hero and man, 
 
 Who stood by his friends by refusing 
 The Presidential nomination when it 
 
 Laid within the grasp of his hand. 
 
 Born under a lucky star, your destined 
 
 Time had not come ; 
 The people now appreciate the grand 
 
 And noble service for them you have done. 
 
 They will rally around your standard, 
 
 You will be the hero in the strife, 
 You will surely be elected. 
 
 For your cause it is right. 
 
 Grover may think he is right 
 
 In his ways of free trade, 
 But a million of votes 
 
 Will be lost by such tirade. 
 
 The workmen who are idle and in despair 
 
 Have learned a wise lesson, which 
 By their next presidential election 
 
 They will repair. 
 
 The democrats are in a quandary 
 
 And in a terrible fix 
 And as sure as the rising sun 
 
 McKinley will be president in 1896. 
 
"Copy." 
 
 R. A. Alger, Detroit Michigan. 
 
 Feb. 27th, 1896. 
 Dear Sir : I have your poems and am much 
 obliged. Will forward the one to Governor McKin- 
 ley. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 R. A. ALGER. 
 
 Mr. Charles L. Domine. Bard of East Bay, Traverse 
 City, Michigan. Box 885. 
 
 "Copy." 
 WILLIAM McKINLEY, 
 
 Canton, Ohio. 
 
 February 29th, 1896. 
 Mr. Charles L. Domine, Box 885, Traverse City, Mich. 
 My Dear Sir: I thank you for your courtesy in 
 sending me a copy of your clever verses. 
 Reciprocating your good wishes, I am, 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 WM. McKINLEY. 
 
From pamphlet of 1896 poems. 
 
 TO ALL, BEWARE OF THE DAY. 
 
 To all I have this to say, beware of the day. 
 We must arraign for war and begin the fray; 
 AVe will be caused to make a tremendous fight; 
 Let us in God put our trust, for our cause it is right. 
 
 What is in the minds of millions I do hate to tell, 
 
 For their condition is worse than slaves. 
 What a knell ! 
 
 Many so poor wishing they never were born and 
 pray to be dead. 
 
 Is it not time for all to act in harmony before dis- 
 aster is spread? 
 
 Charity, charity, has not been done according to 
 
 God's law. 
 I shudder, I tremble, when I think of the vision I 
 
 saw, — 
 Disaster, bloodshed, ruin and many other woes ; 
 When once begun when will they stop? God only 
 
 knows. 
 
 Let us all pray to God, He will keep us in His might, 
 And let all in Him trust to avert disasters in sight, 
 And all will change to peace and prosperity, I think, 
 Instead of sending our nation and many to bank- 
 ruptcy's brink. 
 
From pamphlet of 1896 poems. 
 
 OUR MELANCHOLY DAY. 
 
 The truth I will tell, your attention I pray ; 
 It's about your melancholy day. 
 
 In the morning you get up, you look in a vacant 
 
 way; 
 You can tell by your feelings it's your melancholy 
 
 day. 
 
 Your friends come to see you, you know not what 
 
 to say; 
 They must excuse, you, it's your melancholy day. 
 
 But life with its care is responsible in some way, 
 And so, do what we may, we all have our melan- 
 choly day. 
 
 This is a world of sorrow and sin, for a brighter day 
 Let us pray; and God may forgive us and save us 
 
 from our melancholy day. 
 From pamphlet of 1896 poems. 
 
 JUDGE NOT A MAN BY THE GARMENTS HE 
 MAY WEAR. 
 
 A man may dress in garments untidy and cheap, 
 But his mind may be stored with knowledge wide 
 and deep. 
 
 His friends he may know by the score or more, 
 And under his poor garments a heart may beat that 
 never went back on the poor. 
 
 He may be eccentric, and seem foolish and that, 
 But an acquaintance, with him will show you such 
 are not facts. 
 
 Every living man or woman has some fault one way 
 
 or other. 
 And the less we say of other's faults the better, and 
 
 try not our own to cover. 
 
 Hoping all will profit by the few lines the poor bard 
 
 has penned 
 And judge not a man by the garments he may wear 
 
 and you may never repent. 
 From pamphlet of 1896 poems. 
 
THE MYSTERIOUS CLOCK. 
 
 One cold winter night I lay awake in my bed, 
 Thinking of a poem, fitting words for it did not come 
 
 into my head. 
 Not being able to sleep at the time, I looked at the 
 
 clock ; 
 It had stopped. I heard a mysterious clock with its 
 Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock. 
 
 From whence the sound came, for my life, I could 
 not tell; 
 
 I looked in the cupboard, pantry shelves and, well. 
 
 I looked in every corner. I was provoked. I was 
 shocked 
 
 To think I could not locate the sound of that mys- 
 terious clock with its 
 Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock. 
 
 During the day my eldest son, among some rubbish 
 
 in the loft, 
 Found a little old clock about which I had quite 
 
 forgot, 
 Which overhead on the kitchen ceiling he had hung 
 
 on a hook. 
 Where for one instant I never thought to look 
 Was the mvsterious clock with its 
 Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock. 
 
 By luck and by chance at last I did upward glance, 
 When I found the object of my search I could almost 
 
 dance. 
 How heartily I laughed ; it done my heart good 
 To see how I was fooled by a simple,- little old clock 
 
 with its 
 Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock. 
 The words for my poem at once came to my head, 
 AVhich I resolved to write and finish before again 
 
 going to bed. 
 I hope all will be pleased with it and when it is read 
 That they will not forget the simple little old clock 
 
 with its 
 Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock. 
 From pamphlet of 1896 poems. 
 
CHRISTMAS TIME. 
 
 Let us all gather at the festive board ; 
 
 Be not miserly and mean, take from your hoard, 
 
 And be La^ny, joyous and of good cheer, 
 
 At Christmas time, the greatest clay of the year. 
 
 Be generous and kind to the poor, be brave, 
 For without charity you cannot be saved. 
 And at last when numbered with the dead 
 Your place in the grand procession will be near the 
 head. 
 
 1901. 
 THE BROKEN PANE OF GLASS. 
 
 While standing before the office a-watching old Bob, 
 While Fred and Oc were talking about logs and a 
 
 job, 
 My curiosity prompted me to go in your office, where 
 
 I had no biz to be. 
 
 Of myself I made an ass, by leaning agin a pane of 
 
 glass. 
 Of a sudden I heard crish, crash ; in your office can 
 
 be seen the effects of the smash. 
 Those in the office threw at me a funny gaze. 
 I felt like a fool ; I was in a daze. 
 
 For being a fool you get no praise. 
 The amount of the damage I must raise. 
 Please send what the amount will be : 
 It will be paid by C. L. Domine. 
 
THE OLD CAP. 
 
 * ' Ma, where is my cap ? ' ' 
 
 "Pa, every morn that's your mishap; 
 Helen says she saw it in the shed, 
 Oc says he saw it under the bed." 
 
 "Pa, here's a fur cap which is a little rude.' 
 
 "Ma, that will never do, I'll look like a dude." 
 
 "Pa, here is your old, old cap." 
 
 "Ma, give me my old, and I'll look what I aim 
 An old farmer chap." 
 
 THE DUDE AND THE BARD. 
 
 Dude: "I say, bard, how do we look side by side, 
 
 anyway- ' ' 
 Bard :— 
 
 "We're a very ill-matched pair. 
 
 Your dress is gaudy, mine is the worse for wear. 
 
 I am tall and you are short ; 
 
 I'm a farmer and you're a sport ; 
 
 I pass for a donkey, you for an ass; 
 
 For two darn fools we can easily pass." 
 
THE HUSKIN' BEE. 
 
 The farmer would go around and give all an invite 
 For a huskin' bee at his place the following night 
 The chores were done early, as they did all agree 
 To be early in the evening at the huskin bee. 
 
 Piles of unhusked corn lay on the barn bay in a row ; 
 Old and young sat in a row with ruddy cheeks aglow. 
 You would hear rip, rap, flip, flap, as the corn from 
 
 husks was left free : 
 Everyone was supposed to do their best at the 
 
 huskin' bee. 
 
 If some lucky lassie a red ear would find, what a 
 
 bliss 
 That entitled him from his best lass to get a kiss. 
 Then all would laugh in a merry, merry glee, 
 For there was lots of fun at the huskin' bee. 
 
 Cider, pumpkin pie and cake was passed around 
 
 To cater to the welfare of his guests the giver was 
 
 always fond. 
 After the huskin' bee all sat down to supper and tea, 
 That's the way they done biz at the huskin' bee. 
 
 Then the chairs and tables were cleared away; 
 The fiddler in one corner would sit and play. 
 Everybody took a hand in the dance, happy and free, 
 For all joined hands at the huskin' bee. 
 
 In the wee hours of morn all homeward wended, 
 And the huskin' bee and dance was ended. 
 For real live fun the place used to be 
 The real, good old-fashioned huskin' bee. 
 
 As older and older we are getting to be, the good 
 
 old wife and me, 
 The more we love our little grandchildren — Nora, 
 
 Harry, Aaron and Charlie, 
 But we will never forget the good times that used 
 
 to be, 
 When as lad and lassie we used to go to the huskin' 
 
 bee. 
 Herald, October 24, 1901: 
 
Do you remember "Little Penny," the cunning lit- 
 tle dog, belonging to Mr. Chas. Domine of East Bay, 
 and the nice little poem Mr. Domine wrote us once 
 about him? Well "Little Penny" is dead, and we 
 asked Mr. Domine to write another poem about him 
 and tell us how he died. So here it is, and we thank 
 the "Bard of East Bay" for writing it for us. 
 
 DEATH OF LITTLE PENNY. 
 
 Of old age, poor Little Penny is dead. 
 
 He was found dead in his little bed in the shed. 
 
 Little children all wanted to see 
 
 How old Little Penny would get to be. 
 
 When young Little Penny was sleek and fat 
 
 And no bigger than a wee, wee little rat. 
 
 When full grown, his shaggy fur was black and 
 
 yellow, 
 Little Penny was an odd looking little fellow. 
 
 The children would bring Little Penny dainty mor- 
 sels to eat, 
 
 And they would laugh to see him enjoying a feast. 
 
 When through he would lick their hands, as much as 
 to say, 
 
 "I thank you for what you have brought me today." 
 
 In his old age Little Penny was deaf and nearly 
 
 blind, 
 And lying quietly was the only comfort he could 
 
 find. 
 On the sixth day of October, on Sunday morn, 
 Little Penny's body to his little grave was borne. 
 
 And this epitaph to him we did apply : 
 At the age of twenty Little Penny did die, 
 And under this sod his little body doth lie. 
 The. children will never, never forget 
 Dear Little Penny, poor little pet. 
 
TOM AND ROSA'S CHARIVARI. 
 
 Thomas Lambert and Miss Rosa Courtade were mar- 
 ried Tuesday morning, Nov. 26th, by the Rev. Father 
 Bauer. Henry Courtade, the bride's father, believes in 
 the German custom of giving a charivari to the wedded 
 couple, and to comply with Mr. Courtade's wishes the 
 charivari party assembled at the Four Corners and under 
 the command of Captain Octave Domine marched in a 
 body to the residence of Mr. Courtade. The utmost still- 
 ness was maintained until the charivari party arrived near 
 the house. Then Captain Domine gave the order, "Let 
 her pound." Then the steam whistle of Frank Routsong's 
 shredding machine began to blow, Mr. Courtade's large din- 
 ner bell was rung, there was pounding of saws, ringing of 
 cowbells, blowing of horns, shooting of guns, the noise 
 and din made the welkin ring. C. L. Domine, the Bard 
 of East Bay, who was a member of the charivari party, 
 was called on for a poem and recited the following im- 
 promptu poem: 
 
 Though the night is dark and cold outside, 
 We came to congratulate the groom and bride, 
 Two popular young people of East Bay, 
 Who were united in marriage today. 
 
 From near and far we have come 
 With cowbell, steam whistle, horn and gun; 
 Our captain gives the order, "Let her pound," 
 You then hear the most discordant sound. 
 
 Cling, clang, toot, toot, bing, bang, ding, dang, 
 
 dong, 
 Intermingled with cheering, music and song. 
 Soon, Tom, the groom, on the porch did appear, 
 And for Tom and Rosa, the groom and bride, we give 
 
 a cheer. 
 
 Tom then said, ' ' I thank you for giving Rosa and me 
 
 a chivari with vim ; 
 For refreshments and cigars I invite you within." 
 Then the din and noise was heard miles away, 
 As a reminder of Tom and Rosa's wedding day. 
 
 Then we, the charivari party, went inside. 
 
 And wished a long and happy life to the groom and 
 
 bride. 
 In leaving, we thank thee, thanks of glee. 
 For our reception at Tom and Rosa's charivari. 
 
Poem of 1907. 
 ARTHUR AND IDA'S WEDDING NIGHT. 
 
 Ida came from Saluda, South Carolina, the land of 
 
 clay and cotton, 
 To marry Arthur of East Bay, the land of spuds and 
 
 sandy bottom. 
 After his honor had pronounced them man and wife, 
 He wished them a long and prosperous life. 
 
 In the kitchen the chairs and tables were cleared 
 
 away, 
 And the dancers in line themselves did array. 
 Sitting in one corner the fiddler could be found 
 Playing Old Zip. 
 
 Then there was great fun ; all stood in a row 
 
 To see the bard dance with his girl of forty years 
 
 ago. 
 The charivari came midst much noise and din 
 To participate in the festivals within. 
 
 Thus a romantic affair was ended, 
 
 And two hearts in unison blended. 
 
 A little couple will try 
 
 To live for one another in the sweet bye and bye. 
 
Poem of 1901. 
 
 A CITY'S PRIDE. 
 
 The streets are kept clean, tidy and neat; 
 No dangerous obstructions are allowed in the street. 
 The old and young can safely walk or ride ; 
 Safeguards to life and limb in a city's pride. 
 
 A park with shady trees and shady bowers, 
 
 Where all could go to pass many pleasant hours, 
 
 To give pleasure and comfort, by the city should be 
 
 tried, 
 To show acts of kindness of a city's pride. 
 
 A hospital, a want in every city, 
 Where the poor, sick and afflicted get care and pity, 
 None but the poor and afflicted can fully describe 
 The greatest of a city's pride. 
 
 Onward is the watchword today. 
 
 And no progressive city behind will stay. 
 
 But its doors will be opened wide, 
 
 For the honor of progress and a city's pride. 
 
 Poem of 1912. 
 
 PEOPHECY ON WILSON. 
 
 Roosevelt cleft the Republican party in twain. 
 The Democrats will come into power again. 
 It's hard to run on a broken shaft, 
 And Taft will be running aft. 
 
 Among the ballots' grist, many will be found for 
 Debs, Socialist ; 
 
 There will be changes here and there, 
 
 Great changes everywhere; 
 
 And the one to occupy the White House at Wash- 
 ington 
 
 Will be Woodrow Wilson, New Jersey's son. 
 
Poems of 1915. 
 A MYSTERY IN A BOX. 
 
 In the People's Bank, under key and lock, is a mys- 
 tery in a box. 
 
 Frank was an eccentric man, and mysteries for his 
 friends did plan. 
 
 Judge Walker is going to act and will learn for a 
 fact 
 
 About the mystery under key and lock, a mystery 
 in a box. 
 
 J. A. Montague opened the box the mystery to see. 
 It was gone ; where did it flee ? 
 It's a mystery to you and to me, 
 And a mystery to all it will be. 
 
 A CHILD WAS MY FRIEND. 
 
 One day my heart was sad; 
 
 I had lost a friend I had. 
 
 I met a little child 
 
 Who greeted me in a voice so mild. 
 
 "How do you do, Mr. Domine?" 
 A little friend in sincerity. 
 I loved that little child then, 
 That little child was my friend. 
 
1915. 
 
 FELL BY THE WAYSIDE. 
 
 Mother, when I was a little child to you I was a joy, 
 
 And I played around you with childlike coy ; 
 
 And at niffht when you laid me in my little trundle 
 
 bed, 
 Mother, you gave me a sweet kiss and a good night 
 
 was said. 
 
 "Well do I remember my youthful school days, 
 When my schoolmates and I were joyous in romps 
 
 and plays. 
 Mother, I loved thee, and mother, you loved me ; 
 We were both happy and as happy as could be. 
 
 Then I went to see the world, to me unkind, 
 Where temptations I found of many and many a 
 
 kind. 
 Down,- down I went, down the immoral slide, 
 I stumbled, I fell; I fell by the wayside. 
 
 In a home, a refuge for the downfallen. on a cot I 
 
 laid. 
 One day a kind lady came, for my salvation we 
 
 both prayed. 
 By the help of God, no more, no more will I again 
 
 go astray; 
 Wipe your tears, mother, and for your repentant 
 
 child pray. 
 
WHAT IS TO BE WILL BE. 
 
 Since in a true light Jesus I did see. 
 From a nobody, a somebody He made me, 
 And I learned the difference between a drone and a 
 bee. 
 
 What is to be will be. 
 
 An unmoral human drone is a useless thing, 
 And much suffering to all the world they bring. 
 In adversity they leave their old sting. 
 What is to be will be. 
 
 A moral human busy bee 
 All the world likes to see. 
 In adversity he does not flee. 
 
 What is to be will be. 
 
 We know not war's desolation 
 In this great united nation. 
 We have peace in this land of the free. 
 For a world's peace, great God, we ask Thee. 
 What is to be will be. 
 
WAR DEVILS. 
 
 My flesh creeps, I tremble, I shudder with awe, 
 When I think of the war devils in a vision I saw ; 
 Such monstrosities by man were never seen, 
 Such hideousness in form, such ugliness in mien. 
 
 When the battle begins each war devil takes his side, 
 To be a winner is a war devil's diabolical pride. 
 Such yells and screams each war devil makes to win, 
 Such yells and screams are heard above the battle's 
 din. 
 
 The war devils have a diabolical scheme 
 To be where devastation and death is the scene. 
 There's a lull, the battle doth cease, 
 A respite, for a rest, a little peace. 
 
 Until they again lead the din of shot and shell 
 
 The war devils go for a rest in hell. 
 
 In the far sky golden clouds ' o 'er and o 'er are 
 
 fleeting : 
 In the most beautiful one Jesus is weeping. 
 
1915. 
 
 WAR IS HELL. 
 
 Those that in the fighting war zone dwell 
 
 Know that on earth, war is hell. 
 
 The world looks on with awe 
 
 In this the greatest conflict the world ever saw. 
 
 The wasting of life's blood, 
 The dead laying in a flood, 
 The waitings of the widows and the orphans m the 
 
 land, 
 By tears and prayers, peace they demand. 
 
 One and all should plan 
 For the betterment of man to man. 
 Unless this should be done 
 Christ on earth again will come. 
 
 THE CITY OF THE DEAD. 
 
 The moon shines bright in the sky o'erhead, 
 The dewdrops sparkle on the tombs of the dead. 
 Give a single thought, a single sad thought , 
 Think of the loved ones death has sought. 
 
 The rich, the poor, the young, the gray, 
 After death one and all must pass, decay. 
 A king decays as well as a pauper man ; 
 So be it, God is just, and doth justice plan. 
 
 'er the graves of the dead, shed a tear 
 As you did when they laid in their bier. 
 Their souls may see a great Heavenly light. 
 Far more beautiful than the moonshine tonight. 
 
1915. 
 
 A MARTYR. 
 
 For six long years in silence, I shed many a tear 
 For my heirless and blind wife, to me so dear. 
 She so blithe, so healthy seven years ago. 
 Now a physical deformed wreck you hardly know. 
 
 Nearly seven years ago the ravages of rheumatism 
 
 began to show; 
 Day by day, night by night, the more intense the 
 
 pains did grow ; 
 Such racking pains that distort nerves out of shape. 
 Her moans nearly caused my heart to break. 
 
 She. shows the world that a martyr can suffer and 
 pray ; 
 
 There will be a peaceful smile when she passes away. 
 
 She will join the loved ones that have gone on 
 before ; 
 
 They are waiting and waiting for her on that beau- 
 tiful shore. 
 
 PEACE. 
 
 When will the war, the great conflict, cease ? 
 When will it hover, the dove of peace? 
 When in the heart there is love in place of hate, 
 Then the end of the great conflict you regulate. 
 
 For peace never cease to pray; 
 
 Your prayers will win the day. 
 
 Then the great Omnipotent Power above 
 
 Will send a message of peace and love. 
 
1915. 
 
 A SWEET SUNSHINE SMILE. 
 
 Peace and a sweet sunshine smile to all of thee. 
 In book form this is the last of my poems you'll see. 
 When you read my poems, remember me 
 With a sweet sunshine smile. 
 
 I heard a knock at the door, to the door I went. 
 A little sunshine girl on a mission was bent. 
 "Mrs. Domine, mamma this basket of things to you 
 
 sent." 
 On her lips there was a sweet sunshine smile. 
 
 Mrs. Domine said: "I thank your mamma and you, 
 little dear; 
 
 Though I am blind, a little angel to me you appear." 
 
 In the little room there was a gloom which a sun- 
 shine chased away. 
 
 On the lips of the martyr there was a sweet sunshine 
 smile. 
 
 If all, like this little sunshine girl would do, 
 To the blind, as angels they might appear too. 
 God would reward them for a duty well done 
 And bless them with a sweet sunshine smile.