Part 12 (1/2)

Under the stars, when the shadows fall, Under the stars of night; What is so fair as the jeweled crown Of the azure skies, when the sun is down, Beautiful stars of light!

Under the stars, where the daisies lie Lifeless beneath the snow; Lovely and pure, they have lived a day, Silently pa.s.sing forever away, Lying so meek and low.

Under the stars in the long-ago-- Under the stars to-night; Life is the same, with its great unrest Wearily throbbing within each breast, Searching for truth and light.

Under the stars as they drift along, Far in the azure seas; Beautiful treasures of light and song, Glad'ning the earth as they glide along, What is so fair as these?

Under the stars in the quiet night, Under the stars above; Sweet is the breath of the evening air, Spirits of heaven unseen are there, Weaving a web of love.

Under the stars in the shadowy eve, Glittering stars of truth; Beautiful sprays of eternal light, Laid on the brow of the dusky night, Blossoms of fadeless youth.

Catching the Sunbeams.

Catching the sunbeams, oh, wee dimpled child, Gleefully laughing because they are bright; Knowing, ah! never, my beautiful pet, Ne'er can our fingers imprison the light.

Beautiful suns.h.i.+ne, oh! fair is the light Falling on earth from the heavens above; Beautiful childhood, oh! glad is the sight Filling the world with its measure of love.

Playing with sunbeams, oh, all of us, pet, Toy with the treasures, so s.h.i.+ning and bright; Catching the suns.h.i.+ne we never may hold, Trying like you, to imprison the light.

Sunbeams that glitter and sparkle and s.h.i.+ne-- Life is so full of the beautiful light; Gilding the wings of each fleet-footed day Only to fade in the shadows of night.

Playing with sunbeams, oh! all of us, pet, Long for the treasures so s.h.i.+ning and glad; Finding too late that they slip from our hands, Leaving us heart-sick and weary and sad.

Learning the lessons we never will heed-- Life is so full of the things that we crave; Catching the suns.h.i.+ne oh, darling, each heart Longs for the sunbeams till it reaches the grave.

The Soldier's Grave.

[To the memory of Lieut. Wm. W. Wardell, of the First Ma.s.sachusetts Cavalry, killed May 28, 1864.]

Above his head the cypress waves Its dark green drooping leaves; The sunlight through its branches wide Where bright birds linger side by side A golden net-work weaves.

Within the church-yard's silent gloom He lies in quiet rest; And never more to cold, pale brow, Or proud lips mute with silence now Will loving lips be pressed.

Perhaps even now in death's dark dream He sees the deadly strife; Where brothers fought with blinded eyes, Forgetting all the tender ties That bound them life to life.

Ah! n.o.bly there he proudly rode With honest, warm, true heart; And shrank not from the carnage red, But bravely thee, among the dead, He took a soldier's part.