.

began—I guess my mind was petty—

      I did so want that spellin’-book; but then to spell down Nettie

      Jest sort o’ went ag’in my grain—I somehow could n’t do it,

      An’ when I git a notion fixed, I ‘m great on stickin’ to it.

      So when they giv’ the next word out—I had n’t orter tell it,

      But then ‘t was all fur Nettie’s sake—I missed so’s she could spell it.

      She spelt the word, then looked at me so lovin’-like an’ mello’,

      I tell you ‘t sent a hunderd pins a shootin’ through a fello’.

      O’ course I had to stand the jokes an’ chaffin’ of the fello’s,

      But when they handed her the book I vow I was n’t jealous.

      We sung a hymn, an’ Parson Brown dismissed us like he orter,

      Fur, la! he ‘d learned a thing er two an’ made his blessin’ shorter.

      ‘T was late an’ cold when we got out, but Nettie liked cold weather,

      An’ so did I, so we agreed we ‘d jest walk home together.

      We both wuz silent, fur of words we nuther had a surplus,

      ‘Till she spoke out quite sudden like, “You missed that word on purpose.”

      Well, I declare it frightened me; at first I tried denyin’,

      But Nettie, she jest smiled an’ smiled, she knowed that I was lyin’.

      Sez she: “That book is yourn by right;” sez I: “It never could be—

      I—I—you—ah—” an’ there I stuck, an’ well she understood me.

      So we agreed that later on when age had giv’ us tether,

      We ‘d jine our lots an’ settle down to own that book together.

      KEEP A-PLUGGIN’ AWAY

      I ‘ve a humble little motto

      That is homely, though it ‘s true,—

      Keep a-pluggin’ away.

      It’s a thing when I ‘ve an object

      That I always try to do,—

      Keep a-pluggin’ away.

      When you ‘ve rising storms to quell,

      When opposing waters swell,

      It will never fail to tell,—

      Keep a-pluggin’ away.

      If the hills are high before

      And the paths are hard to climb,

      Keep a-pluggin’ away.

      And remember that successes

      Come to him who bides his time,—

      Keep a-pluggin’ away.

      From the greatest to the least,

      None are from the rule released.

      Be thou toiler, poet, priest,

      Keep a-pluggin’ away.

      Delve away beneath the surface,

      There is treasure farther down,—

      Keep a-pluggin’ away.

      Let the rain come down in torrents,

      Let the threat’ning heavens frown,

      Keep a-pluggin’ away.

      When the clouds have rolled away,

      There will come a brighter day

      All your labor to repay,—

      Keep a-pluggin’ away.

      There ‘ll be lots of sneers to swallow,

      There ‘ll be lots of pain to bear,—

      Keep a-pluggin’ away.

      If you ‘ve got your eye on heaven,

      Some bright day you ‘ll wake up there,—

      Keep a-pluggin’ away.

      Perseverance still is king;

      Time its sure reward will bring;

      Work and wait unwearying,—

      Keep a-pluggin’ away.

      NIGHT OF LOVE

      The moon has left the sky, love,

      The stars are hiding now,

      And frowning on the world, love,

      Night bares her sable brow.

      The snow is on the ground, love,

      And cold and keen the air is.

      I ‘m singing here to you, love;

      You ‘re dreaming there in Paris.

      But this is Nature’s law, love,

      Though just it may not seem,

      That men should wake to sing, love,

      While maidens sleep and dream.

      Them care may not molest, love,

      Nor stir them from their slumbers,

      Though midnight find the swain, love,

      Still halting o’er his numbers.

      I watch the rosy dawn, love,

      Come stealing up the east,

      While all things round rejoice, love,

      That Night her reign has ceased.

      The lark will soon be heard, love,

      And on his way be winging;

      When Nature’s poets wake, love,

      Why should a man be singing?

      COLUMBIAN ODE

      I

      Four hundred years ago a tangled waste

      Lay sleeping on the west Atlantic’s side;

      Their devious ways the Old World’s millions traced

      Content, and loved, and labored, dared and died,

      While students still believed the charts they conned,

      And revelled in their thriftless ignorance,

      Nor dreamed of other lands that lay beyond

      Old Ocean’s dense, indefinite expanse.

II

      But deep within her heart old Nature knew

      That she had once arrayed, at Earth’s behest,

      Another offspring, fine and fair to view,—

      The chosen suckling of the mother’s breast.

      The child was wrapped in vestments soft and fine,

      Each fold a work of Nature’s matchless art;

      The mother looked on it with love divine,

      And strained the loved one closely to her heart.

      And there it lay, and with the warmth grew strong

      And hearty, by the salt sea breezes fanned,

      Till Time with mellowing touches passed along,

      And changed the infant to a mighty