Evenings with Colorado Poets: A Compilation of Selections from Colorado Poets and Verse-writers

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Francis Shanor Kinder, Frank Clarence Spencer
Chain & Hardy Company, 1894 - American literature - 240 pages

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Page 45 - THE little toy dog is covered with dust, But sturdy and stanch he stands; And the little toy soldier is red with rust, And his musket moulds in his hands. Time was when the little toy dog was new, And the soldier was passing fair; And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue Kissed them and put them there. FATHER'S LETTER 249 "Now, don't you go till I come," he said, "And don't you make any noise!
Page 46 - Ay, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand, Each in the same old place, Awaiting the touch of a little hand, The smile of a little face. And they wonder, as waiting these long years through, In the dust of that little chair, What has become of our Little Boy Blue Since he kissed them and put them there.
Page 6 - Not as I will." Blindfolded and alone I wait; Loss seems too bitter, gain too late; Too heavy burdens in the load And too few helpers on the road, And joy is weak and grief is strong, And years and days so long, so long; Yet this one thing I learn to know Each day more surely as I go, That I am glad the good and ill By changeless law are ordered still, "Not as I will.
Page 7 - MESSENGER, art thou the king, or I ? Thou dalliest outside the palace gate Till on thine idle armor lie the late And heavy dews : the morn's bright, scornful eye Reminds thee ; then, in subtle mockery, Thou smilest at the window where I wait, Who bade thee ride for life. In empty state My days go on, while false hours prophesy Thy quick return ; at last, in sad despair, I cease to bid thee, leave thee free as air ; When lo, thou stand'st before me glad and fleet, And lay'st undreamed-of treasures...
Page 45 - He dreamt of the pretty toys; And, as he was dreaming, an angel song Awakened our Little Boy Blue — Oh! the years are many, the years are long, But the little toy friends are true!
Page 44 - The very recollection of them puddin's 'nd them pies Brings a yearnin' to my buzzum 'nd the water to my eyes; 'Nd seems like cookin' nowadays ain't what it used to be In camp on Red Hoss Mountain in that year of '63; But, maybe, it is better, 'nd, maybe, I'm to blame — I'd like to be a-livin' in the mountains jest the same — I'd like to live that life again when skies wuz fair 'nd blue, When things wuz run wide open 'nd men wuz brave 'nd true; When brawny arms the flinty ribs of Red Hoss Mountain...
Page 11 - Shrined leaders' hearts in costly state: The symbol, sign, and instrument Of each soul's purpose, passion, strife, Of fires in which are poured and spent Their all of love, their all of life. O feeble, mighty human hand! 0 fragile, dauntless human heart! The universe holds nothing planned With such sublime, transcendent art! Yes, Death, I own I grudge thee mine Poor little hand, so feeble now; Its wrinkled palm, its altered line, Its veins so pallid and so slow — (Unfinished here.) Ah, well, friend...
Page 46 - THE WANDERER Upon a mountain height, far from the sea, I found a shell, And to my listening ear the lonely thing Ever a song of ocean seemed to sing, Ever a tale of ocean seemed to tell.
Page 45 - Little Boy Blue The little toy dog is covered with dust, But sturdy and staunch he stands ; And the little toy soldier is red with rust, And his musket moulds in his hands. Time was when the little toy dog was new, And the soldier was passing fair; And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue Kissed them and put them there. "Now, don't you go till I come...
Page 8 - I see thy tendrils drink by sips From grass and clover's smiling lips ; I hear thy roots dig down for wells, Tapping the meadow's hidden cells ; Whole generations of green things, Descended from long lines of springs, I see make room for thee to bide A quiet comrade by their side ; I see the creeping peoples go Mysterious journeys to and fro, Treading to right and left of thee, Doing thee homage wonderingly. I see the wild bees as they fare, Thy cups of honey drink, but spare. I mark thee bathe and...

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