OH, who would be sad tho’ the sky… And meadow and woodlands are empty… For softly and merrily now there c… The little white birds thro’ the w… The squirrel’s enjoying the rest o…

Bones a—gittin’ achy, Back a—feelin’ col’, Han’s a—growin’ shaky, Jes’ lak I was ol’. Fros’ erpon de meddah

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…

De trees is bendin’ in de sto’m, De rain done hid de mountain’s fo’… I ‘s ’lone an’ in distress. But listen, dah 's a voice I hyea… A—sayin’ to me, loud an’ cleah,

When summer time has come, and all The world is in the magic thrall Of perfumed airs that lull each se… To fits of drowsy indolence; When skies are deepest blue above,

See dis pictyah in my han’? Dat’s my gal; Ain’t she purty? goodness lan’! Huh name Sal. Dat’s de very way she be—

At the golden gate of song Stood I, knocking all day long, But the Angel, calm and cold, Still refused and bade me, ‘Hold.… Then a breath of soft perfume,

My neighbor lives on the hill, And I in the valley dwell, My neighbor must look down on me, Must I look up?—ah, well, My neighbor lives on the hill,

A lilt and a swing, And a ditty to sing, Or ever the night grow old; The wine is within, And I’m sure t’were a sin

OUTSIDE the rain upon the stree… The sky all grim of hue, Inside, the music—painful sweet, And yet I heard but you As is a thrilling violin,

The poor man went to the rich man’… ‘I come as Lazarus came,’ he said… The rich man turned with humble he… ‘I will send my dogs to lick your…

Whose little lady is you, chile, Whose little gal is you? What’s de use o’ kiver’n up yo’ fa… Chile, dat ain’t de way to do. Lemme see yo’ little eyes,

A BLUE—BELL springs upon the l… A lark sits singing in the hedge; Sweet perfumes scent the balmy air… And life is brimming everywhere. What lark and breeze and bluebird…

Love of home, sublimest passion That the human heart can know! Changeless still, though fate and… Rise and fall and ebb and flow, To the glory of our nation,

OH the breeze is blowin’ balmy And the sun is in a haze; There’s a cloud jest givin’ coolne… To the laziest of days. There are crowds upon the lakeside…