MY GARDEN

And here is a treasure from France la belle

Exhaleth a faint perfume

Of wedded lily and asphodel

In a garden of song abloom.

And this wee little book of Puritan mien
And rude, conspicuous print

Hath the Yankee flavor of wintergreen,
Or, may be, of peppermint.

In Walton the brooks a-babbling tell
Where the cheery daisy grows,

And where in meadow or woodland dwell
The buttercup and the rose.

But best beloved of books, I ween,
Are those which one perceives
Are hallowed by ashes dropped between
The yellow, well-thumbed leaves.

For it's here a laugh and it's there a tear,
Till the treasured book is read;
And the ashes betwixt the pages here
Tell us of one long dead.

But the gracious presence reappears
As we read the book again,

And the fragrance of precious, distant years
Filleth the hearts of men.

Come, pluck with me in my garden nooks
The posies that bloom for all;

Oh, sweet is the smell of my old, old books
In their places against the wall!

211

ONE DAY I GOT A MISSIVE

ONE day I got a missive

Writ in a dainty hand,
Which made my manly bosom
With vanity expand.

"T was from a "young admirer"
Who asked me would I mind
Sending her "favorite poem"
"In autograph, and signed."

She craved the boon so sweetly
That I had been a churl
Had I repulsed the homage
Of this gentle, timid girl;
With bright illuminations
I decked the manuscript,
And in my choicest paints and inks
My brush and pen I dipt.

Indeed it had been tedious

But that a flattered smile
Played on my rugged features
And eased my toil the while.
I was assured my poem

Would fill her with delight-
I fancied she was pretty-
I knew that she was bright!

And for a spell thereafter

That unknown damsel's face
With its worshipful expression
Pursued me every place;
Meseemed to hear her whisper:
"O, thank you, gifted sir,
For the overwhelming honor
You so graciously confer!"

ONE DAY I GOT A MISSIVE

But a catalogue from Benjamin's
Disproves what things meseemed-
Dispels with savage certainty

The flattering dreams I dreamed;
For that poor "favorite poem,"
Done and signed in, autograph,
Is listed in "Cheap Items"
At a dollar-and-a-half.

213

POEMS OF CHILDHOOD

WITH TRUMPET AND DRUM

WITH big tin trumpet and little red drum,
Marching like soldiers, the children come!
It's this way and that way they circle and file-
My! but that music of theirs is fine!

This way and that way, and after a while

They march straight into this heart of mine! A sturdy old heart, but it has to succumb

To the blare of that trumpet and beat of that drum!

Come on, little people, from cot and from hall—
This heart it hath welcome and room for you all!
It will sing you its songs and warm you with love,
As your
dear little arms with my arms intertwine;
It will rock you away to the dreamland above-
Oh, a jolly old heart is this old heart of mine,

And jollier still is it bound to become

When you blow that big trumpet and beat that red drum!

So come; though I see not his dear little face
And hear not his voice in this jubilant place,

I know he were happy to bid me enshrine

His memory deep in my heart with your play-
Ah me! but a love that is sweeter than mine
Holdeth my boy in its keeping to-day!

And my heart it is lonely-so, little folk, come,
March in and make merry with trumpet and drum!

THE SUGAR-PLUM TREE

215

THE SUGAR-PLUM TREE

HAVE you ever heard of the Sugar-Plum Tree?
"T is a marvel of great renown!

It blooms on the shore of the Lollipop sea
In the garden of Shut-Eye Town;

The fruit that it bears is so wondrously sweet
(As those who have tasted it say)

That good little children have only to eat
Of that fruit to be happy next day.

When you 've got to the tree, you would have a hard time
To capture the fruit which I sing;

The tree is so tall that no person could climb
To the boughs where the sugar-plums swing!
But up in that tree sits a chocolate cat,
And a gingerbread dog prowls below-
And this is the way you contrive to get at
Those sugar-plums tempting you so:

You say but the word to that gingerbread dog
And he barks with such terrible zest
That the chocolate cat is at once all agog,

As her swelling proportions attest.

And the chocolate cat goes cavorting around

From this leafy limb unto that,

And the sugar-plums tumble, of course, to the ground-
Hurrah for that chocolate cat!

There are marshmallows, gumdrops, and peppermint canes,
With stripings of scarlet or gold,
And you carry away of the treasure that rains

As much as your apron can hold!

So come, little child, cuddle closer to me

In your dainty white nightcap and gown,

And I'll rock you away to that Sugar-Plum Tree
In the garden of Shut-Eye Town.