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.

GOOD-BYE.

Good-bye! Good-bye!
Once pledged we fondly o'er and o'er
That nought should cloud our love's bright sky;
Once thought we that we could not stay
Apart and live. But oh! For us
Fate willed it not to linger thus.
To-day earth's wintry poles apart
Are further not that we in heart,
Nor colder than our sunless way.
Passion and pride can do no more,
And you and I can only say
Good-bye! Good-bye!

Good-bye! Good-bye!
So sad it seems the sound of tears,
So sad it seems life's parting sigh,
And yet, alas! It can but be.
Deserted ghostly wrecks of dreams
Once freighted with Hope's golden gleams,
Wrecks drifting on a sullen sea,
To mock the memory-haunted years,
Are all now left to you and me.
Good-bye! Good-bye!

IN THE TWILIGHT.

In the twilight gray and shadowy,
Deepening o'er the sunset's glow,
Softly through the mystic dimness
Flitting shadows come and go.

As my thoughts in listless wandering
With these phantom shadows fly,
Meseems they wear the forms of faces,
Faces loved in days gone by.

One by one I recognize them
As they silent gather near;
Some are loving, childish faces,
Knowing naught of grief or care.

Some are blooming, youthful faces,
Victory confident to win,
Some are from the contest shrinking,
Wearied with the strife and din.

Some are aged, wrinkled faces,
Time life's sands has nearly run;
Not a leaflet spared of Springtime,
Not a furrow left undone.

Other faces, sweet, sad faces,
Wafted o'er the Lethean sea,
Radiant smile in twilight shadows,
But they came not back to me.

In the twilight, dreamy twilight,
When the sultry day is gone,
Quietly o'er vale and hillside,
Tenderly as blush of dawn,

Come the timid evening breezes,
Sighing through the Summer leaves,
Transient as thought's pencil-paintings,
Sweet as weft that fancy weaves.

And as shadows in the twilight
Shapeful forms of faces wear,
So these dainty, light