The promise of these fragrant flowers,
The fruit that ’neath these blossoms lies
Once hung, they say, in Eden’s bowers,
And tempted Eve in Paradise.
O fairest daughter of Eve’s blood,
Lest her misprision thine should be,
I ’ve nipped temptation in the bud
And send this snowy spray to thee.
Sullen and dull, in the September day,
On the bank of the river,
They waited the boat that should bear them away
From their poor homes forever.
For progress strides on, and the order had gone
To these wards of the nation:
“Give us land and more room,” was the cry, “and move on
To the next reservation.”
With her babe, she...
To you, whose temperate pulses flow
With measured beat, serene and slow,
The even tenor of whose way
Is undisturbed by passion’s sway,
This tale of wayward love may seem
The record of a fevered dream.
And yet, we two have that within
To make us what our kind have been.
A lure more strong, a wish more faint,
Makes one a...
Her lips were so near
That—what else could I do?
You ’ll be angry, I fear,
But her lips were so near—
Well, I can’t make it clear,
Or explain it to you,
But—her lips were so near
That—what else could I do?
When i was seventeen I heard
From each censorious tongue,
“I ’d not do that if I were you;
You see you ’re rather young.”
Now that I number forty years,
I ’m quite as often told
Of this or that I should n’t do
Because I ’m quite too old.
O carping world! If there ’s an age
Where youth and manhood keep...
