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POEMS.
The thirsty camels near
Laid resting, but she gave
Them from her pitcher fresh and clear
The pure and cooling wave.
And swiftly on the needs of man
And weary beasts, her footsteps ran.
Laid resting, but she gave
Them from her pitcher fresh and clear
The pure and cooling wave.
And swiftly on the needs of man
And weary beasts, her footsteps ran.
This beauteous picture gleams
In splendour to mine eyes,
Sweet with all oriental dreams
And glowing Eastern skies.
The comely damsel slim and fair
With pitcher poised on shoulder bare!
In splendour to mine eyes,
Sweet with all oriental dreams
And glowing Eastern skies.
The comely damsel slim and fair
With pitcher poised on shoulder bare!
A REVERIE.
"The soul has her sunny days, and her starless nights, her winter frost and her summer glow, her laughter and her tears, and in her intercourse with God, spiritual suffering has her mission to turn her out of error and lead her into truth."—Baring Gould
'TIS Sunday evening in full summer time—
The month of roses when they brightly bloom,
And other flowers are in their gladdest prime,
Lifting the earth awhile from winter's gloom,
And happy murmurs borne aloft from insects' wings
A sense of life and rapture to the spirit brings.
The month of roses when they brightly bloom,
And other flowers are in their gladdest prime,
Lifting the earth awhile from winter's gloom,
And happy murmurs borne aloft from insects' wings
A sense of life and rapture to the spirit brings.
