Volume VII Part 6 (1/2)

HOLLY SONG

BY CLINTON SCOLLARD

Care is but a broken bubble, Trill the carol, troll the catch; Sooth, we'll cry, ”A truce to trouble!”

Mirth and mistletoe shall match.

_Happy folly! we'll be jolly!

Who'd be melancholy now?

With a ”Hey, the holly! Ho, the holly!”

Polly hangs the holly bough._

Laughter lurking in the eye, sir, Pleasure foots it frisk and free.

He who frowns or looks awry, sir, Faith, a witless wight is he!

_Merry folly! what a volley Greets the hanging of the bough!

With a ”Hey, the holly! Ho, the holly!”

Who'd be melancholy now?_

SONGS WITHOUT WORDS

BY ROBERT J. BURDETTE

I can not sing the old songs, Though well I know the tune, Familiar as a cradle song With sleep-compelling croon; Yet though I'm filled with music As choirs of summer birds, ”I can not sing the old songs”-- I do not know the words.

I start on ”Hail Columbia,”

And get to ”heav'n-born band,”

And there I strike an up-grade With neither steam nor sand; ”Star Spangled Banner” downs me Right in my wildest screaming, I start all right, but dumbly come To voiceless wreck at ”streaming.”

So, when I sing the old songs, Don't murmur or complain If ”Ti, diddy ah da, tum dum,”

Should fill the sweetest strain.

I love ”Tolly um dum di do,”

And the ”trilla-la yeep da”-birds, But ”I can not sing the old songs”-- I do not know the words.

TRIOLETS

BY C.W.M.

She threw me a kiss, But why did she throw it?