Fresh every day to my untainted ears How like a prodigal doth nature seem, When thou, for all thy gold, so common art! Thou teachest me to deem More sacredly of every human heart, Since each reflects in joy its scanty gleam Of heaven, and could some wondrous secret shov And with a child's undoubting wisdom look THE FIRST SNOW-FALL The snow had begun in the gloaming, Had been heaping field and highway Every pine and fir and hemlock Wore ermine too dear for an earl, From sheds new-roofed with Carrara The stiff rails were softened to swan's-down, I stood and watched by the window I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn How the flakes were folding it gently, Up spoke our own little Mabel, Saying, "Father, who makes it snow?" And I told of the good All-father Who cares for us here below. Again I looked at the snow-fall, And thought of the leaden sky That arched o'er our first great sorrow, When that mound was heaped so high. I remembered the gradual patience And again to the child I whispered, Then, with eyes that saw not, I kissed her; That my kiss was given to her sister, ALADDIN When I was a beggarly boy, When I could not sleep for cold, I had fire enough in my brain, And builded, with roofs of gold, My beautiful castles in Spain ! Since then I have toiled day and night, LONGING Of all the myriad moods of mind That through the soul come thronging Which one was e'er so dear, so kind, So beautiful as Longing? The thing we long for, that we are For one transcendent moment, Before the Present poor and bare Can make its sneering comment. Still, through our paltry stir and strife, To let the new life in, we know, Desire must ope the portal; Perhaps the longing to be so Helps make the soul immortal. Longing is God's fresh heavenward will With our poor earthward striving; We quench it that we may be still But, would we learn that heart's full scope Which we are hourly wronging, Our lives must climb from hope to hope Ah! let us hope that to our praise The moments when we tread his ways, When we are simply good in thought, Howe'er we fail in action. SONNET Great Truths are portions of the soul of man; Great souls are portions of Eternity; Each drop of blood that e'er through true heart ran With lofty message, ran for thee and me; For God's law, since the starry song began, Hath been, and still for evermore must be, That every deed which shall outlast Time's span WHAT MR. ROBINSON THINKS FROM "THE BIGLOW PAPERS" SERIES I Guvener B. is a sensible man; He stays to his home an' looks arter his folks ; Sez he wunt vote fer Guvener B. My! aint it terrible? Wut shall we du? We can't never choose him o' course, thet 's flat; Guess we shall hev to come round, (don't you?) An' go in fer thunder an' guns, an' all that; Sez he wunt vote fer Guvener B. Gineral C. is a dreffle smart man : He's ben on all sides thet give places or pelf; But consistency still wuz a part of his plan, — Sez he shall vote fer Gineral C. Gineral C. he goes in fer the war; He don't vally principle more 'n an old cud; Sez he shall vote fer Gineral C. |