He buries his face in the pillow,
Close, close, to the fast failing breath;
A little arm clasps his neck closely,
A voice growing husky in death
Says pleadingly, half in a whisper:
“Please, darling papa, don’t
cry;
I know Birdie’s going to Heaven—
I heard doctor say he will die;
“But I’ll ask God for one of the windows
The pretty star-eyes look out through,
And when you come up with the angels
I’ll sure be the first to see you.
“And maybe I’ll find my dear mamma;
And you’ll come up, too, by-and-by,
And Birdie will watch for you, papa,
And open the gate of the sky.”
The little hand falls from his shoulder
All nerveless, the blue eyes dilate,
A shuddering sigh, then the baby
Is waiting to open the gate.
WHITE HONEYSUCKLE.
White honeysuckle, “bond of love,” Emblem born in Orient bowers, Whence mythic Deities have wooed, And told the soul’s desire in flowers. As sweet thy breath as Eden’s balm, As sweet and pure. Methinks that erst Thy flower was of our earth a part, Some angel hand the seed immersed In fragrance of the lotus’ heart, And dropped it from the realm of calm. And life of earth, and life above, Thou bindest with they “bond of love.”
* * * * *
ESTRANGEMENT.
Only a “something light as air,”
Which never words could tell,
Yet feel you that between your lives
A cloud has strangely fell;
Though never a change in look or tone,
A change your heart is grieving;
You sentient feel the friend you love
Has deemed you are deceiving.
A promise rashly given has bound
Your lips the truth to screen,
The nameless something gathers fast
As mist the hills between;
You wrap you in your cloak of pride,
The words are never spoken
That might have thrown the portal wide,
And friendship’s tie is broken.
* * * * *
BRING FLOWERS.
Bring flowers, bring flowers, thou Queen of the Spring,
Sweet flowers to garland the
earth,
Exotics to bloom in the mansions of wealth,
Wild flowers for the lowly
hearth.
Bring flowers for the brave
and strong-hearted,
Bring flowers for the merry
and glad,
Bring flowers for the weak
and despairing,
Bring flowers for the weary
and sad.
Bring flowers, bring flowers, thou Queen of the Spring,
Sweet flowers, the dark hours
to cheer.
Bring flowers for the little ones, flowers for the
aged,
Bring flowers for the bridal
and bier.
In this beautiful, sun-lighted
Springtime,
Bring flowers their fragrance
to shed,
To brighten the homes of the
living,
To garnish the graves of the
dead.