What matter if the world be right or wrong,
The wrong to-day, to-morrow brings to sight,
Or else the right supreme and strong.
But stop, I am aweary, quench the light,
Life's problems is beyong my hapless song,
I dream to nothingness - to self -…
What matters if the world be wrong or right,
The wrong to-day to-morrow brings to sight,
O'er all supreme the one and only right.
The problem's past my solving, hapless wight,
I only know I'm tired, quench the light,
To all the universe, good…
SongI walked alone thro' the forest,The noon-day sun was shining,And zephyrs softly whisperedTo wild flowers there reclining;The birds sang joyous music,The wood rang with their lay.And my heart caught their rapture,And soared in bliss away.A cloud…
Sweet the mission that it brings,O'er our life a joy it flings,We now hail it with delight,Like a vision calm and bright.Through the vale of passing years,Through the mist of earthly cares,Summer comes with breezes sweet,Loving homes and hearts to…
Ah, Fancy, what a prank you've played me,
To make me dream of fate assured
You should have said she did not want me,
Just think, I may've the other girl secured.
A dreamer? Yes. Why not? You have your way.
You think, perhaps you even dream. I know
Not if you dream like me; but whether so
Or otherwise, have you ne'er felt the day
Steal to your heart and bring the light and play
Of incompleted want? Hath…
I simply asked a song
My fancy to amuse;
How could'st thy cruel scorn
My trustful heart abase?
The boon thou would'st not give
Fair Jessie granted me;
Still may life's joy e'er live
To bring no pain to thee.
Had'st thou but first asked…
And thou art eight years old to-day?
How swiftly pass the years away!
Thy life has been a happy dream,
As bright as any bright sunbeam.
And may each birthday bring to thee
The gladness thou hast brought to me.
May length of years be thine to…
Only a bunch of lilacs,
Laid on a coffin lid;
'Neath which the face of a loved one
From tearful eyes lies hid.
Only a loving tribute
From hands by toil made hard.
Blossoms from Nature's garden
Or cotter's humble yard.
Only a bunch of…
I love the wild and wooly West,
Where winds cavort so free;
The effete East has now, at least,
No charms at all for me.
I love the lands that stretch away,
Toward the setting sun;
Where tender feet on bosses fleet,
Are followed with a gun.
I…
