A LEAF fell in love with the soft green lawn,
He deemed her the sweetest and best,
And then on a dreary November dawn
He withered and died on her breast.

_THE COUNTRY IN JULY_

WHERE glistening in the softness of the night
The vagrant will-o'-wisps do greet the sight;
Where fragrance baffling permeates the breeze
That gently flouts the grasses and the trees;
Where every flying thing doth seem to be
Instinct with sweetly sensuous melody;
Where hills and dales assume their warmest phase,
With here and there a scarf of opal haze
To soften their luxuriant attire;
Where one can almost hear the elfin choir
Across the meadow-land, down in the wood,
In songs of gladness--there are all things good.
Ah! ye who seek the spot where joys abide,
Awake! Awake! Seek out the country-side,
And through the blue-gray July haze see life
All free from care, from sorrow, and from strife.

_MAY 30, 1893_

IT seemed to be but chance, yet who shall say
That 'twas not part of Nature's own sweet way,

That on the field where once the cannon's breath
Lay many a hero cold and stark in death,

Some little children, in the after-years,
Had come to play among the grassy spears,

And, all unheeding, when their romp was done,
Had left a wreath of wild flowers over one

Who fought to save his country, and whose lot
It was to die unknown and rest forgot?

_THE CURSE OF WEALTH_

"WHAT shall I put my dollars in?" he asked, in wild dismay.
"I've fifty thousand of 'em, and I'd like to keep 'em too.
I'd like to put them by to serve some future rainy day,
But in these times of queer finance what can a fellow do?

"A railway bond is picturesque, and the supply is great,
But strangely like a novel that upon occasion drags,
Of which the critics of the time in hackneyed phrases state,
'The work has certain value, but the int'rest often flags!'

"The same is true of railway shares, 'tis safer to invest
In ploughshares, so it seems to me, in this unhappy time.
Some think great wealth a blessing, but it cannot stand the test;
He's happier by far than I who's but a single dime.

"He does not lie awake at night and fret and fume, to think
Of bank officials on a spree with what he's toiled to get.
He is not driven by his woe quite to the verge of drink
By wondering if his balance in the bank remains there yet.