wr-TRW 3 ' The Commoner. JUNE 1. 1906 Newspaper Verses Worthy a Place in Scrap Books tFwit7 AT CLOSE OF DAY Dear little IVithin Dear little Within God grant Faithful to hands, that I can hold the hollow of ray palm; frame that I can fold the comfort of my arm; those lips may ever be Him, and true to me. Dear tired feet, enchained by sleep; They've traveled miles at home today; I- pray that God those feet will keep "Within the paths of truth alway; Great Guide, that they may ever be . Fai'chful to Thee, and true to me. I lay my boy down in his bed, And kiss the yielding finger tips; Dream angels throng about his head, ,And slumber seals the noisy lips; God grant those hands may ever be Faithful to Him, and true to me. Heart of my heart, my. child, my son, Thy mother's flesh is like to thine; I yield thee to a mightier One To keep thee in His strength divine My Samuel to God I bring, Behold Thy servant, Father King! Good Housekeeping. - Poems of Heart Interest Written by the Po,ets of the Daily and Weekly Press : A PRAYER A Fair, little head, of sun brown hair . Sweet as the autumn glow Dear little hands, oh, child of mine, Lost to me long ago! Down in the orchard, white with bloom, Long wondrous hours we spent, Watching the crimson sun sink low And dreaming where he went. Thrilled with the joy of life and love, "The deep peace over all, Fragrance of blossoms newly- blown, The robin's plaintive call. it ft. i' ', Prayer .of the "lovelorn nightingale,- And laugnter sweet ana snrm; Ghosts of the June dusk looming up Beyond the distant hill. Well did we know the red clouds trailed The far-off mystic sea; Dear little heart, the wide, wide world Seemed just for you and me. Fair little head" of sun brown hair Sweet as the autumn, glowr Dear .little hands, oh, child of mine, Lost to me long ago! New York Sun. v JS -? r- THE CHILDREN Mother of many children I sprung of my heart and my brain 'And some have been borne in gladness. and some have been borne in pain, But one has gone singing from out my door Never to come again. Content and Ease and Comfort they abide with me day by day; " , !They smooth my couch and place my chair as dutiful children may, And Success and Power, my strong limbed sons, Stand ever to clear my way. 'And these be the prudent children, the careful children and wise. .There was one and only one with a reckless dream in his eyes. He who was one with the wind o' the dawn, 'And kin to the wood and the skies. ITaithful and fond are my children and' they tend me well, in sooth; Success and Content and Power, good proof is mine of their truth, But the name of him that I lost was Joy, iYea, my first-born Joy of Youth. vWell do my children guard me, jealous of this their right; ' , .... , .. Carefully, soberly, ever, by daylight and candle But oh, for my prodigal Joy of Youth . Somewhere out in the night! Theodosia Garrison in the Smart Set. A LOVE POEM Sweetheart of the Long Ago, Time plays many a trick, 1 trow." I am sitting in my room - Writing verse ak to whom? Thinking, sweetheart, still of thee " And the Land of the Was-lo-Be; Thinking verses to and of Thee, my first, my only love; Talking to my musing self; Padding poetry for pelf. If the Then were but the Now! I am here and where art thou? Art thou far away from me Over mountain, over sea? Dost remember how we played In the pear tree's pleasant shade? , Dost recall the perfect bliss Of our stolen pristine kiss, . And remember how we said ' That we'd run away and wed? ( Need I put in public print That at which I only hint? Sweetheart, dost remember how , Deep we loved? Where art thou now? Long ago and still I care More and more for thee. Ah, where, Where if art at all art thou? Answer, sweetheart, answer now! Comes a voice: "Why, I'm out hero ' In the kitchen, cooking, dear." 4kMVM.Vt .t Time plays many a trick, I trow, ' Sweetheart of the Long Ago. Franklin P. Adams in Woman's Homo Companion. CLOVER PERFUME There's a thrilling, tugging feeling On each heartstring that I know, " There's a perfume in my nostrils From the fields of long ago, There's a vision in my mem'ry - ' , Making all the world grow dim,V- Taking me away back yonder Where us fellows used to swim. " And the vision's central picture Is a laughing blue-eyed maid - Standing in the rippling .shallows Where we used to go to wade; I can see her pink toes gleaming In the rippling stream where she, With her skirts held safe from wetting,. Laughs across the years at me. ". I can see the trees we climbed in, I can see the streams we fished, I can see the log we sat on In those old days, when we wished That we two were grown up people, Gone out in the world and far; Now the greatest grief I know of Is in knowing that we are. , I would rather be back yonder, Back 'neath childhood's skies of blue Than to count my wealth in millions; m ' If I could go dancing through j- That wee stream we loved to wade in, L Climb the trees we used to climb, .! j I would never wish to grow up, ? " - Comes the thrill along my heartstrings, When the clover is In bloom, Then my nostrils catch the far-blown Tantalizing sweet perfume From the fields I used to romp in, And I hear a lilt of glee, 'And a maid, barefooted, blue-eyed Laughs across the years at me. J. M, Lewis in Houston Post. I'd be happy all the time. THE 8ECRET There's a little word called "Sweetheart;" it'a as old as Heaven's blue; 'TIs the sweetest word -e'er spoken and its joy is over new; It was Love's first murmured message, .spoken in the oar of Love, When the Earth took shape from nothing and the blue sky arched abovo; It has come through Time unmeasured; it has lived unnumbered years; It was born of smiles and laughter and has dried r Grief's countless teais; it's the magic soul of mliHic and the living fire of Art, And I've chcsen It to give thee Just that llttlo word "Sweetheart." Ah, the aching hearts and heavy it has bidden hear and smile; It has bidden Youth be merry, and hus cheered the Aftorwhllo Of the years to peace and gladness and the dreary days and long Are forgotten In the glory of its whispered even song. It has made the heart go leaping of the school boy at his play; It has .filled with gladder dreamings all the sun shine of his day; It has bridged world-sundered chasms and has played the noblest part In the life and strife of being jusl that llttlo word "Sweetheart." It has cheered the eve of battles; it has fired the Heart of Dawn; It has braved the mouth of cannon and has borne war's banners on; It has lured the soldier Death ward, where the scarp was red and steep; It has trembled like a blessing on the ashen lips of Sleep; Tc has hushed the cry of children; it has fired the souls of men, Beaten back on shores of Failure to be bold and strong again; , r In the hermit's cloistered silence or in Traffic's busy mart, It i3 of all, in all, through all just that llttlo word "Sweetheart." And forever and forever, through the endlessness of Time, It shall hallow song and story and shall be the soul of rhyme. It shall be a part of Being, much as heartbeat, much as breath, It shall be the joy of living and the overthrow . of Death; So I bid thee kneel and listen till I whisper " thee the key, Till I tell thee why "is Labor, Life, Love, Death and Mystery; Hut or palace, serf or master, clod or genius, toil or art, It is of all, in all, through all just that little word "Sweetheart." J. W. Foley in New York Times. -, '" BEING HAPPY There is only one ambition Got its hooks in me, an' I'm Yieldin' to it; it's a honon' To be happy all the time; Whether clouds or whether sunshine, Whether darkness, whether rain, Whether sickness, whether sorrow, Whether accident or pain; I just keep my spirits bubblin' An' my face fixed all the while To, without provocation, Broaden out Into a smile. J F There's a good big wad o worry Fer whoever'll pick it up, Fer the man that drinks too careful There's some bitter in life's cup; But just piungo your uuooig oguu m it -,r Like the thirsty horses do In a trough, an you ill notice It'll taste right good to you. If you frown into a mirror You don't need to feel surprise If it frowns back; It'll laugh back If a laugh is in your eyes. J. M. Lewis in Houston Postl tf5i. A -A"- - - t. ..!. Jliii'A.Uil-. i w. A'iyi