SONG [W.S.] With a hey! and a hi! and a hey-ho… O the shepherd lad He is ne’er so glad

Ah, friend of mine, how goes it, Since you’ve taken you a mate?— Your smile, though, plainly shows… Is a very happy state! Dan Cupid’s necromancy!

Her heart knew naught of sorrow, Nor the vaguest taint of sin— 'Twas an ever-blooming blossom Of the purity within: And her hands knew only touches

The old sea captain has sailed the… So long, that the waves at mirth, Or the waves gone wild, and the cr… Were as near playmates from birth: He has loved both the storm and th…

Written In Madison Caweln’s ‘Lyr… Herein are blown from out the Sou… Songs blithe as those of Pan’s pu… As sweet in voice as, in perfume, The night-breath of magnolia-bloom…

I heard the bells at midnight Ring in the dawning year; And above the clanging chorus Of the song, I seemed to hear A choir of mystic voices

What makes you come HERE fer, M… So much to our house?—SAY? Come to see our big sister!— An’ Charley he says 'at you kisse… An’ he ketched you, th’uther day!—

Ho! green fields and running brook… Knotted strings and fishing-hooks Of the truant, stealing down Weedy backways of the town. Where the sunshine overlooks,

Always suddenly they are gone— The friends we trusted and held se… Suddenly we are gazing on, Not a _smiling_ face, but the marb… Dead mask of a face that nevermore

The Old Hay-mow’s the place to pl… Fer boys, when it’s a rainy day! I good-'eal ruther be up there Than down in town, er anywhere! When I play in our stable-loft,

I’ b’en a-kindo musin’, as the fel… About o’ the conclusion that they… When you come to cipher on it, tha… When we swore our first 'dog-gone-… You git my idy, do you?—_Little_…

Out of the hitherwhere into the Y… The land that the Lord’s love res… Where one may rely on the friends… And the smiles that greet him alon… Where the mother that left you yea…

Old October’s purt’ nigh gone, And the frosts is comin’ on Little heavier every day— Like our hearts is thataway! Leaves is changin’ overhead

Welladay! Here I lay You at rest—all worn away, O my pencil, to the tip Of our old companionship!

I grow so weary, someway, of all t… That love and loving have vouchsaf… Since now all dreamed-of sweets of… Am I possessed of: The caress tha… The lips that mix with mine with m…