We gather them in, the bright green leaves,
With our scythes and rakes to-day,
And the mow grows big, as the pitcher heaves
His lift in the swelt'ring hay.
Oh, ho! a-field! for the mower's sythe
Has a ring as of destiny,
Sweeping the earth of…
I dreamed of you the other nightA little dream, and yet so bright,It made me happy all the day,Thinking how kindly was the wayYou took my hand and pressed it oftUpon your lips so fresh and soft:Then smoothing from my face the hairThat is so often…
I love it—I love it—the laugh of a child,Now rippling and gentle, now merry and wild,Ringing out on the air with its innocent gush,Like the thrill of a bird at the twilight's soft hush;Floating off on the breeze like the tones of a bell,Or the music…
The heart is swept—the fire is bright,
The kettle sings for tea;
The cloth is spread, the lamp is light, The muffins smoke in napkins white,
And now I wait for thee.
Come home, love, come; thy task is done;
The clock ticks listeningly;
The…
I watch for thee when parting day
Sheds on the earth a lingering ray;
When his last blushes o'er the rose
A richer tint of crimson throws,
And every flowert's leaves are curled
Like beauty shrinking from the world;
When silence reigns o'er lawn…
I weep for thee! Thy miseries,
Though unspoken, deeply felt—
More deeply felt because unbreathed—
A sister's heart may melt.
I weep for thee, whose gen'rous love
Has blessed and sheltered me;
I weep for thee—may God above
In mercy look on…
"I will be good, dear mother,"
I heard a sweet child say;
"I will be good, now watch me!—
I will be good all day."
She lifted up her bright young eyes,
With a soft and pleasing smile;
Then a mother's kiss was on her lips,
So free and pure from…
I wish I was again a child,
To gambol on my native sward,
To roam amid the woodly wild,
And climb the jutting rocks so hard.
How swift the winged moments then!
How light of heart when school was o'er,
I shelved the satchel, book and pen,
The…
I'll think of thee when morn's first flush,
Shall stream its glittering rays on high,
Of thee, when twilight's crimson flush
Shall spread and kiss the eastern sky,—
I'll think of thee in gloomiest hours,
And in the spring time's brightest…
My days pass pleasantly away;
My nights are blest with sweepest sleep;
I fees no symptom's of decay;
I have no cause to mourn nor weep;
My foes are impotent and shy;
My friends are neither false nor cold,
And yet, of late, I often sigh—
I'm…
