Page:Near nature's heart; a volume of verse (IA nearnaturesheart00jack).pdf/112



Bright morning glory, In brief you tell, With magic spell, A wondrous, mystic story Of life and beauty. May I please God so well, Inspiring in the sons of men delight and duty.

MY HOLIDAY

(Inscribed to C. L. Anderson, H. C. Bagley, S. R. Belk, J. N. McEachern and A. R. Holderby.)

The month of May for a holiday— Now what do you think of that? With Nature to stay for her matinee— Up high I'll throw my hat.

"Quite sick," they say, in the month of May; And the doctors all stood pat; Yes, truly astray, unfit for the fray; Indeed I had fallen flat,

Till the month of May, my holiday, Near Nature's heart whereat I'll doff decay, with all dismay, And with her grow strong and fat.

The month of May for peace and play, When the birds so fondly chat; When the old and gray must Life obey, Like a full fledged bouncing brat.

All hail to May and to friends for aye! The friends who in council sat, And said, "We pray, take the month of May, And live in a beautiful plat."

Hooray, hooray, for my holiday! I'll be a master at the bat; Without delay I'll mount my way, As high as Ararat.

THE AEOLIAN HARP

What mysterious music is that? Whence these softest melodies, soothing my inmost soul? What symphony orchestra over the hills Sends me its sweetest strains, These chords of subdued sorrow mingled with joy of gentleness? Or what angel deigns to float down to me Such mild, musical waves,