claims
And fills his longing soul. They softly speak
Of Nature's beauty and the secrets old
Concealed behind the shadows of the hills,
And love on angel fingers borne to men,
Naming them over in so sweet a voice
That music leads their footsteps in the ways
Where God has walked; and with a lofty Harp,
As wondrous as the gentle harps of heaven,
Uplifts, ennobles, soothes and leads the race
Unto its last great ultimate of power,
To words of tenderness and goodly deeds.

SINGER AND SONG.

A singer sang in sorrow long
And breathed his life into his song.

Unknown, unheard, the song went wide,
Until the singer, starving, died.

Now in their hearts the nations write
And wear the singer's song of might.

Ah, singers fail and fall from view,
But songs are always, always new!

If garlands none to singers cling,
Bays wreathe above the songs they sing.

TO ONE WHO PLEDGED HER FRIENDSHIP.

Within this false world we may count ourselves blest,
If we have but one friend who is faithful and true;
And so in your friendship contented I'll rest,
And believe I have found that one blessing in you.

THE BANKS O' TURKEY RUN.

Like a thousan' birds o' brightness from the isles o' summer seas,
Rickollections, full o' gladness, come with songs and lullabies,
An' I listen to the carols that with gentle voices roll,
Full o' tenderness an' beauty, down upon my weary soul,
Fer thar's one thet keeps a-singin' with a song thet's never done,
An' I see the bendin' willers on the banks o' Turkey Run.

An' agin' I be a youngster with a youngster's foolin' dreams,
With his high-falutin' notions an' his fiddle-faddle schemes;
With the laughin' an' the cryin', with the sorrow an' the joy,
Thet is jumbled up together in the bosom o' the boy;
An' agin my arly fancies in a fairy loom are spun
Underneath the dancin' shadders on the banks o' Turkey Run.

An' agin I be a school-boy with the other merry lads,
When Joe an' Jerry, Bill an' I, wus only little tads,
When a half a dozen marvels an' a kivered ball was worth--
With a knife o' Barlow pattern--all the treasures o' the earth;
An' the soundin' sort o' thunder from a poppin' kind o' gun
Set our faces all a-giggle on the banks o' Turkey Run.

It 'ud tickle any feller but ter see the solemn look,
When the master was a-watchin', thet we fastened on the book,
But the misc