Lay away the story,— Though the theme is sweet, There’s a lack of something yet, Leaves it incomplete:— There’s a nameless yearning—

Sometimes I keep From going to sleep, To hear the katydids ‘cheep-cheep!… And think they say Their prayers that way;

A monument for the Soldiers! And what will ye build it of? Can ye build it of marble, or bras… Outlasting the Soldiers’ love? Can ye glorify it with legends

O The South Wind and the Sun! How each loved the other one Full of fancy—- full folly— Full of jollity and fun! How they romped and ran about,

They all climbed up on a high boar… Nine little Goblins, with green-g… Nine little Goblins that had no s… And couldn’t tell coppers from col… And they all climbed up on the fen…

I am looking for Love. Has he pas… With eyes as blue as the skies of… And a face as fair as the summer d… You answer back, but I wander on,… For you say: ‘Oh, yes; but his ey…

MAY 30, 1878, Dying for victory, cheer on cheer Thundered on his eager ear. —CHARLES L. HOLSTEIN. Deep, tender, firm and true, the…

By her white bed I muse a little… She fell asleep—not very long ago,… And yet the grass was here and not… The leaf, the bud, the blossom, an… Midsummer’s heaven above us, and t…

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

When snow is here, and the trees l… And the knuckled twigs are gloved… When the breath congeals in the dr… And the old pathway to the barn is… When the rooster’s crow is sad to…

Jap Miller down at Martinsville’s… When _he_ starts in a-talkin’ othe… 'Pears like that mouth o’ his’n wu… But jes’ to argify 'em down and ge… He’ll talk you down on tariff; er…

Let me come in where you sit weepi… Let me, who have not any child to… Weep with you for the little one w… I have known nothing of. The little arms that slowly, slowl…

The past is like a story I have listened to in dreams That vanished in the glory Of the Morning’s early gleams; And—at my shadow glancing—

Donn Piatt—of Mac-o-chee,— Not the one of History, Who, with flaming tongue and pen, Scathes the vanities of men; Not the one whose biting wit

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…