Love hath the wings of the butterf… Oh, clasp him but gently, Pausing and dipping and fluttering… Inconsequently. Stir not his poise with the breath…

You ask why I am sad to—day, I have no cares, no griefs, you sa… Ah, yes, 't is true, I have no gr… But—is there not the falling leaf? The bare tree there is mourning le…

THERE are no beaten paths to Gl… There are no rules to compass grea… Each for himself must cleave a pat… And press his own way forward in t… Smooth is the way to ease and calm…

TIM Murphy’s gon’ walkin’ wid Ma… O chone! If I was her muther, I’d frown on… O chone! I’m sure its unmutherlike, darin’…

THE wind is out in its rage to—ni… And your father is far at sea. The rime on the window is hard and… But dear, you are near to me. Heave ho, weave low,

A BEE that was searching for swe… Through the gate of a rose garden… In the heart of a rose he hid away… And forgot in his bliss the light… As sipping his honey he buzzed in…

When a woman looks up at you with… And her brows are half uplifted in… As you breathe some pretty sentenc… She is very apt to stun you with a… It’s a sublte combination of a sne…

All hot and grimy from the road, Dust gray from arduous years, I sat me down and eased my load Beside the Fount of Tears. The waters sparkled to my eye,

Long years ago, within a distant c… Ere Love had touched me with his… I dreamed of one to make my life’s… The panting passion of a summer’s… And ever since, in almost sad susp…

AN old worn harp that had been pl… Till all its strings were loose an… Joy, Hate and Fear, each one essa… To play. But each in turn had fou… No sweet responsiveness of sound

De ol’ time’s gone, de new time’s… Wid all hits fuss an’ feddahs; I done fu’got de joy an’ cheah We knowed all kin’s o’ weddahs, I done fu’got each ol’—time hymn

Lay me down beneaf de willers in d… Whah de branch 'll go a—singin’ as… An’ w’en I’s a—layin’ low, I kin hyeah it as it go Singin’, 'Sleep, my honey, tek yo…

I WAS not; now I am —a few days… I shall not be; I fain would look… And after, but can neither do; som… Or lack of power says 'no’ to all… I stand upon a wide and sunless pl…

WHAT’S the use o’ folks a—frowni… When the way’s a little rough? Frowns lay out the road fur smilin… You’ll be wrinkled soon enough. What’s the use?

By rugged ways and thro’ the night We struggle blindly toward the lig… And groping, stumbling, ever pray For sight of long delaying day. The cruel thorns beside the road