This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1907 edition. Excerpt: ...POVERTY'S LOT. Poverty bought our little lot, Flooded with daisy blooms; Poverty built our little cot And furnished all its rooms. Yet Peace leans over Labor's chair, Joys at the fireside throng, While up and down on Poverty's stair Love sings the whole day long. EARTH'S ANGELS. Angel of Youth, how swift you ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1907 edition. Excerpt: ...POVERTY'S LOT. Poverty bought our little lot, Flooded with daisy blooms; Poverty built our little cot And furnished all its rooms. Yet Peace leans over Labor's chair, Joys at the fireside throng, While up and down on Poverty's stair Love sings the whole day long. EARTH'S ANGELS. Angel of Youth, how swift you flew! Perhaps you're worth a sigh. Angel of Love, good-bye to you--Good-bye! Good-bye! Angel of Work, your strong demand My soul enliveneth, Till on my hands you lay Your hand, Angel of Death. NEWS OF LIFE. A Bird flew in at my window: " That's news of death," they said. 0 heart life-packed, it was heaven you lacked As you suffered and strove and fled. A message of life you bring me: Caught fast in the strange unknown, We strive with the gloom in earth's low room, Then escape to the skies--our own. THE SCHOOL OF PAIN. Here is the hard school kept by Pain, With pupils sad and white: While some shed tears like falling rain Prom dreary morn till night, Some knit the brow and clench the fist, And fill the heart with hate, And some cross languid wrist on wrist, And say Pain is their fate; But those that study very hard, And learn that Pain can bless, Are sent out in a leafy yard To play with Happiness. UNHEARD CRITICISM. I Talked with you to-day, all three, Two of you lurked unseen: Yourself, the boy you used to be, And the man you might have been. You said that hopes to dead buds turned, That love was but a dream, Ambition soon to ashes burned, Joy was a fleeting gleam. You never saw that constantly They smiled at you unseen--The ardent boy you used to be, The man you might have been. REMINDER. Bold as thou art There cometh one more bold To turn thy strenuous heart All masterless and cold. Unmoved, strong-stayed Art thou? Yet cometh one Whose...
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