The rhyme o’ The Raggedy Man’s '… Is Tickle me, Love, in these Lon… 'Cause that-un’s the strangest of… An’ the worst to learn, an’ the la… An’ the funniest one, an’ the fool…

The harp has fallen from the maste… Mute is the music, voiceless are t… Save such faint discord as the wil… In sad aeolian murmurs through the… The tide of melody, whose billows…

‘He shall sleep unscathed of thiev… Who loves Allah and believes.’ Thus heard one who shared the tent… In the far-off Orient, Of the Bedouin ben Ahrzz—

Tommy’s alluz playin’ jokes, An’ actin’ up, an’ foolin’ folks; An’ wunst one time he creep In Pa’s big chair, he did, one ni… An’ squint an’ shut his eyes bofe…

The warm pulse of the nation has g… The muffled heart of Freedom, lik… Throbs solemnly for one whose eart… Wrought every mission well. Whose glowing reason towered above…

A good man never dies— In worthy deed and prayer And helpful hands, and honest eyes… If smiles or tears be there: Who lives for you and me—

'I’m home again, my dear old Room… I’m home again, and happy, too, As, peering through the brightenin… I find myself alone with you: Though brief my stay, nor far away…

DAWN As though a gipsy maiden with dim… Sat crooning by the roadside of th… So, Autumn, in thy strangeness, t… To read dark fortunes for us from…

_(Grandfather, musing.)_ In childish days! O memory, You bring such curious things to m… Laughs to the lip—tears to the eye… In looking on the gifts that lie

Has she forgotten? On this very M… We were to meet here, with the bir… As on that Sabbath, underneath th… We strayed among the tombs, and st… The vines from these old granites,…

'I have twankled the strings of th… I have burnished the meteor’s mail… I have bridled the wind When he whinnied and whined With a bunch of stars tied to his…

Hey, Old Midsummer! are you here… With all your harvest-store of old… Vast overhanging meadow-lands of r… And drowsy dawns, and noons when g… Nods in the sun, and lazy truant b…

Where are they—the Afterwhiles— Luring us the lengthening miles Of our lives? Where is the dawn With the dew across the lawn Stroked with eager feet the far

She sang a song of May for me, Wherein once more I heard The mirth of my glad infancy— The orchard’s earliest bird— The joyous breeze among the trees

‘O Printerman of sallow face, And look of absent guile, Is it the ’copy’ on your 'case’ That causes you to smile? Or is it some old treasure scrap