ls among
And babble on in glee;
For love brought back the soul of song
Beneath the Chestnut Tree;--
Brought back, while moonlit breezes blew
The sweetest flower that ever grew,
Alone, alone for me.

JACK AND JILL

We played beside the little rill
That flows to larger river;
We heard the mating mocking-birds trill,
The robins piped upon the hill,
And Cupid strung his little bow and filled his little quiver:
Then she, we played, was little Jill,
And I was Jack, her lover.

But floating down the little stream
Toward the larger river,
The rippling of the waves did seem
The fading music of a dream,
For Cupid broke his silver bow and lost his golden quiver;
And Jill forgot the hour supreme
When I was Jack, her lover.

NATURA

O beauteous maid, my heart is thine;
I lay its dearest offering at thy feet;
I burn its sweetest incense on thy shrine,
For thou, sweet maid, art all divine,
For worship thou art meet.

Let those who never felt the glow
That summer suns have spread o'er flowery meads,
Whose hearts have never thrilled at arch-ed bow,
Or when the cascade's crystal flow
Is sparkling into beads,

Deny thy charms. To me thy smile
Is sweeter boon than untried worlds can yield;
No creed of priests can ever lure me while
Thy wondrous love so free from guile,
Is everywhere revealed.

The severing clouds at early dawn
Blush red as roses bursting into bloom
At thy deft touch; and on the dewy lawn
The drapery of night withdrawn
I find no hint of gloom.

And when at noon the streets I quit
For dappled shade or thickest leafy bower,
Then, blushing, thou dost come with me to sit
And read the poems thou hast writ
In leaf and tint of flower.

At evening walking arm in arm
With thee through glen or by the river's brink,
I watch the shades descend o'er distant farm
And still the world has lost no charm
That soul can wish or think.

The loom of fancy never wove
Beneath the starlit skies of southern seas
A dream of beauty thy enchanting love
On hill or stream or sheltered cove,
Or on the open leas

Has not supplied; and thou, sweet maid,
Dost never weary, but from day to day,
And season unto season, every shade