Part 13 (2/2)

Nay, then!--So reign, Elizabeth, Crowned, in thy May-day realm of death!

Put forth the scepter of thy love In every star-tipped blossom of The gra.s.sy dais of thy throne!

Sadder are we, thus left alone, But gladder they that thrill to see Thy mother's rapture, greeting thee.

Bereaved are we by life--not death-- Elizabeth! Elizabeth!

SLEEP.

Orphaned, I cry to thee: Sweet sleep! O kneel and be A mother unto me!

Calm thou my childish fears: Fold--fold mine eyelids to, all tenderly, And dry my tears.

Come, Sleep, all drowsy-eyed And faint with languor,--slide Thy dim face down beside Mine own, and let me rest And nestle in thy heart, and there abide, A favored guest.

Good night to every care, And shadow of despair!

Good night to all things where Within is no delight!-- Sleep opens her dark arms, and, swooning there, I sob: Good night--good night!

DAN PAINE.

Old friend of mine, whose chiming name Has been the burthen of a rhyme Within my heart since first I came To know thee in thy mellow prime; With warm emotions in my breast That can but coldly be expressed, And hopes and wishes wild and vain, I reach my hand to thee, Dan Paine.

In fancy, as I sit alone In gloomy fellows.h.i.+p with care, I hear again thy cheery tone, And wheel for thee an easy chair; And from my hand the pencil falls-- My book upon the carpet sprawls, As eager soul and heart and brain, Leap up to welcome thee, Dan Paine.

A something gentle in thy mein, A something tender in thy voice, Has made my trouble so serene, I can but weep, from very choice.

And even then my tears, I guess, Hold more of sweet than bitterness, And more of gleaming s.h.i.+ne than rain, Because of thy bright smile, Dan Paine.

The wrinkles that the years have spun And tangled round thy tawny face, Are kinked with laughter, every one, And fas.h.i.+oned in a mirthful grace.

And though the twinkle of thine eyes Is keen as frost when Summer dies, It can not long as frost remain While thy warm soul s.h.i.+nes out, Dan Paine.

And so I drain a health to thee;-- May merry Joy and jolly Mirth Like children clamber on thy knee, And ride thee round the happy earth!

And when, at last, the hand of Fate Shall lift the latch of Canaan's gate, And usher me in thy domain, Smile on me just as now, Dan Paine.

OLD WINTERS ON THE FARM

I have jest about decided It 'ud keep a _town-boy_ hoppin'

Fer to work all winter, choppin'

Fer a' old fire-place, like _I_ did!

Lawz! them old times wuz contrairy!-- Blame backbone o' winter, 'peared-like, _Wouldn't_ break!--and I wuz skeerd-like Clean on into _Febuary_!

Nothin' ever made we madder Than fer Pap to stomp in, layin'

On a' extra fore-stick, sayin'

”Groun'hog's out and seed his shadder!”

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