TEENY-WEENY

Oh, the strange and lovely sights
Teeny-Weeny sees of nights,

As he makes those famous flights

On that wondrous horse of his!
Oftentimes before he knows,

Wearylike his eyelids close,
And, still smiling, off he goes
Where the land of By-low is.

There he sees the folk of fay

Hard at ring-a-rosie play,

And he hears those fairies say:

29

"Come, let 's chase him to and fro!"

But, with a defiant shout,

Teeny puts that host to rout;
Of this tale I make no doubt,
Every night he tells it so.

So I feel a tender pride

In my boy who dares to ride
That fierce horse of his astride,

Off into those misty lands;

30

TEENY-WEENY

And as on my breast he lies,
Dreaming in that wondrous wise,
I caress his folded eyes,

Pat his little dimpled hands.

On a time he went away,
Just a little while to stay,
And I'm not ashamed to say
I was very lonely then;
Life without him was so sad,
You can fancy I was glad
And made merry when I had
Teeny-Weeny back again!

So of evenings, after tea,
When he toddles up to me

And goes tugging at my knee,

You should hear his palfrey neigh!
You should see him prance and shy,
When, with an exulting cry,
Teeny-Weeny, vaulting high,

Plies his lash and rides away!

NELLIE

Is listening soul hears no echo of battle,

H'No pean of triumph nor welcome of fame;

No pæan of triumph nor welcome of fame;

But down through the years comes a little one's prattle,

And softly he murmurs her idolized name. And it seems as if now at his heart she were

clinging

As she clung in those dear, distant years to

his knee;

He sees her fair face, and he hears her sweet

singing

And Nellie is coming from over the sea.

While each patriot's hope stays the fullness of

sorrow,

While our eyes are bedimmed and our voices are low,

32

NELLIE

He dreams of the daughter who comes with

the morrow

Like an angel come back from the dear long ago.

Ah, what to him now is a nation's emotion,

And what for our love or our grief careth he? A swift-speeding ship is a-sail on the ocean, And Nellie is coming from over the sea!

O daughter-my daughter! when Death stands before me

And beckons me off to that far misty shore, Let me see your loved form bending tenderly

o'er me,

yore.

And feel your dear kiss on my lips as of In the grace of your love all my anguish abating, I'll bear myself bravely and proudly as he, And know the sweet peace that hallowed his waiting

When Nellie was coming from over the sea.

TH

NORSE LULLABY

HE sky is dark and the hills are white
As the
from the north
As the storm-king speeds from the north
to-night;

And this is the song the storm-king sings,
As over the world his cloak he flings:
"Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep";
He rustles his wings and gruffly sings:
"Sleep, little one, sleep."

On yonder mountain-side a vine
Clings at the foot of a mother pine;
The tree bends over the trembling thing,

And only the vine can hear her sing:

Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep

What shall you fear when I am here?
Sleep, little one, sleep."