Songs Ysame

The world's a friend to thee,
In love's embrace.
All hearts do bend to thee,
In thy queen's place.

The Time o' Day

IF I should look for the time o' day
On the rose's dial red,
I would think it was just the sunrise hour,
From the flush of its petals spread.

And if I would tell by the lily-bell,
I would think it was calm, white noon;
And the violet's blue would tell by its hue
Of the evening coming soon.

But when I would know by my lady's face,
I am all perplexed the while;
For it's always starlight by her eyes,
And sunlight by her smile.

Trailing Arbutus

THERE may be hearts that lie so deep
'Neath griefs and cares that weigh like drifted snow,
That love seems chilled in endless sleep,
And budding hopes may never dare to grow.
Yet under all, some memory
Trails its arbutus flowers of tender thought, —
All buried in the snow maybe,
Still with the sweetest fragrance fraught.

A Mood

SOMETHING has made the world so changed,
Something is lost from field and sky,
And the earth and sun are sadly estranged,
And the songs of Nature seemed turned to a cry.
Yet I heard my blithe little neighbor tell
How fair is the spring to see.
Ah, well, —
Perhaps the change is in me.

Something has gone from your smile, sweetheart;
Something I miss from your look, your tone.
Though you stand quite near, we are still apart,
You may clasp me close, but I feel alone.
Yet over and over your love you tell,
And as you say, it must be.
Ah, well, —
Perhaps the change is in me.

The Legend of the Pansies

ONE night in Fairyland, when all the court
Held carnival to welcome in the June,
And to the wind-harp's music, flying feet
Were dancing on the rose leaves night had strewn;
The naughty Puck crept up the castle stair,
And called the sleeping princes from their bed;
And with their royal pages following,
Away the tricksy little fairies sped.
Mounted on snowy night-moths, off they raced,
Startling the gnomes, asleep within the shade
Of gloomy forests, with their merry cries,
As at forbidden games all night they played.
But when at sunrise blew an elfin horn,
Mischievous Puck was nowhere to be seen,
The disobedient princes stood forlorn;
Like dew-drops fell their tears on grasses green.
For fairy children, not within the bounds
Of Queen Titania's realm at morning's dawn,
Change into blooming flowers where they stand,
And bloom there till the summer time is gone.

Now, where the little princes played all night
In robes of royal purple and of gold,
The flowers we call pansies sprang in sight,
And round them stood the little pages bold,
In liveries of yellow, blue, and white;
While upward through the east the great sun rolled.
Then some, repentant, sadly drooped their heads;
Some turned their saucy faces to the sky;
But now they all alike must wait the day
When they can bid the summer time good-by.
Sometimes, when bees upon their busy rounds
Stop to deliver some sweet message sent
From Fairyland, the thoughtful faces smile
And seem to grow a little more content.
When cooling shadows creep along the grass,
And mother birds are twittering lullabies
To sleepy nestlings, then the south winds pass,
And close with fingers soft the pansies' eyes.
Upon the wings of dreams they're borne along
To loving arms that rock them all the night,
And fairy voices soothe their sleep with song,
Till they are waked by kisses of the light.

The Tower of Babel