He ’d nothing but his violin,
I ’d nothing but my song,
But we were wed when skies were blue
And summer days were long;
And when we rested by the hedge,
The robins came and told
How they had dared to woo and win,
When early Spring was cold.
We sometimes supped on dew-berries,
Or slept among the hay,
But oft the...
Nothing but leaves; the spirit grieves
Over a wasted life;
Sin committed while conscience slept,
Promises made, but never kept,
Hatred, battle, and strife;
Nothing but leaves!
Nothing but leaves; no garnered sheaves
Of life’s fair, ripened grain;
Words, idle words, for earnest deeds;
We sow our seeds,—lo! tares...
Miss Flora MCFLIMSEY, of Madison Square,
Has made three separate journeys to Paris,
And her father assures me, each time she was there,
That she and her friend Mrs. Harris
(Not the lady whose name is so famous in history,
But plain Mrs. H., without romance or mystery)
Spent six consecutive weeks without stopping
In one continuous...
I was a Phoebe — nothing more —
A Phoebe — nothing less —
The little note that others dropt
I fitted into place —
I dwelt too low that any seek —
Too shy, that any blame —
A Phoebe makes a little print
Upon the Floors of Fame —
I've nothing else — to bring, You know —
So I keep bringing These —
Just as the Night keeps fetching Stars
To our familiar eyes —
Maybe, we shouldn't mind them —
Unless they didn't come —
Then — maybe, it would puzzle us
To find our way Home —
If He dissolve — then — there is nothing — more —
Eclipse — at Midnight —
It was dark — before —
Sunset — at Easter —
Blindness — on the Dawn —
Faint Star of Bethlehem —
Gone down!
Would but some God — inform Him —
Or it be too late!
Say — that the pulse just...
