"THE SONGS THAT MOTHER USED TO SING."

The songs that mother used to sing!

How tenderly those ditties roll, And to the dirges in my soul The happy notes of gladness bring!

Where'er my vagrant feet may roam From pleasures of my childhood's home, This life of mine with rapture throngs, When thinking of my mother's songs.

They were not made of magic lays; No perfect melodies were found, That with the strains of fairy sound Would charm the stranger's ear to praise; But I can never hope to meet Another music half so sweet, And all my longing love will cling To songs that mother used to sing.

With gentleness of crooning cries, She freed the aching limbs from pain, And lulled the eyes to sleep again With sweetness of her lullabies.

Love mingled with her tender voice In tones that made the heart rejoice, And Heaven's music seemed to ring In songs that mother used to sing.

Though years have pa.s.sed, they still impart Glad warbles to the hours of woe, And their mute carols fondly throw The sacred raptures o'er my heart; Until my locks are thin and gray Deep in my soul will sound alway, And full of joy will ever spring The songs that mother used to sing.

"QUAFF THE GLa.s.s, THE WINE IS RED."

Quaff the gla.s.s, the wine is red, And the rose of youth is glowing, While the toils of life are fled And the snows of age are going; Quaff it with a hearty will, Quaff it deep and quaff forever; Wine will every sorrow kill, And destroy the pleasures never.

When the heart beats sad and low, Drink its gladness like a river; When the soul is weak with woe, Quaff and be a cheerful liver; Never, never, life, despair, While a cup of hope is nigh thee; Bend not under loads of care While the fount of joy is by thee!

If the fickle friendships end And thy fortune be a sad one, Claim, O, claim, as truest friend, Ruby wine, the sweet and glad one!

If thy love hath proven cold, Leave her, leave her, for the new one; Wine is never false for gold; Friend to friend, a tried and true one!

Let the cynics curse and rave; This must be a life of pleasure; Fill a b.u.mper! He's the knave Who would scorn joy's fullest measure; Quaff the gla.s.s, the wine is red; Hour by hour the days are going; Wine is yet the fountain head From which pleasure's tide is flowing

GOOD-NIGHT.

Good night, my little love, good-night!

May angels keep With fondest watch thy slumbers, till the light Shall break thy sleep, And morning with its wonders bright Shall banish all thy cares with might.

Within this quickened life of mine, I bear away The loving looks and tender words of thine, Which from this day Within my soul shall ever shine And make me better, more divine.

With love and trust and truth, my heart Beats all for thee; And though our lives may wander far apart, Till death's decree Shall pierce my hopes with deadly dart, Thou still my star of guidance art.

Good-night, dear one! As gladdest songs, The sweetest dreams Fill all my happy soul in joyous throngs, And tender themes Bring bliss for which my nature longs, And slay the curse of ancient wrongs.

Good-night, my little love! In care Of Heaven rest, And may thy life no deeper sorrow share Than love's behest, Beneath the smiles of raptures rare!

Good-night! G.o.d keep thee everywhere!

LIVE LIFE WITH LOVE.

There is no soul of anguish or repining, That doubts and trembles in the shades of gloom, But love can lead where softest suns are shining And fill his days with beauty and its bloom.

Live life with love!

There is no bosom dark with lonely caring, That sadly sorrows in the nights of woe, But love can soothe his torture and despairing, And scatter gladness where his feet may go.

Live life with love!

There is no scene of misery or sorrow That droops and withers in the dark of night, But love can bring fond yearnings for the morrow And heap the heart with hope's unfading light.

Live life with love!

There is in all the world no sinful creature That gropes and falters on his troubled way, But love can overcome his erring nature, And change his darkness to eternal day.

Live life with love!

Sweet love, with bounties that her hands are giving, Can blossom roses on the desert heath, Can brighten all the longings of the living And with found kisses warm the lips of death.

Live life with love!

As love is thine, so shall thy days be sweeter With all the deeds that shall thy fellows bless; Thy small achievements n.o.bler and completer With truth and hope and highest happiness!

Live life with love!

DISCONTENT.

The sun comes up in the east And the sun goes down in the west, And man to me is a heartless beast And the world has only a savage breast.

How thoughts rush over my soul As the waves walk over the sea!

Their forms flee soon and the sorrows roll In the deep distress that is over me.

How hopes arise in my heart, As the roses bloom over the plain!

But time is tearing their sweets apart And they die in darkness and awful pain.

Ambitions burn in my breast, As the fires in a city rage; But damp creeps over their fervid zest And they sink away into ashen age.

If there was pleasure for pain I could well be happy awhile, And, O, my bosom would ne'er complain, If my fortune gave me a single smile.

But here I am, and the curse is on, And my life is a waste of woe, And ere one river of tears is gone, O, another torrent begins to flow.

Ah, the sun comes up in the east And the sun goes down in the west.

And man to me is a heartless beast And the world has only a savage breast!