Monday reveries and recollections . f82. Shes only a little maiden Of the class of 82,But dainty and sweet, and graceful and neat, To the tip of her tiny shoe. This morning I failed in each lesson But what, oh, what, can I do?Whatever I read, I can only heed That maiden of 82. The teacher may scowl and continually growl, But I see no help. Do you?Unless they remove, which I could not approve. That maiden of 82. 48 Some day Ill propose for shes sweet as a rose, And her heart, Im sure, is true;And white as the snow is the soul, I know, Of that maiden of 82. Her eyes are bright as the stars of ni
Monday reveries and recollections . f82. Shes only a little maiden Of the class of 82,But dainty and sweet, and graceful and neat, To the tip of her tiny shoe. This morning I failed in each lesson But what, oh, what, can I do?Whatever I read, I can only heed That maiden of 82. The teacher may scowl and continually growl, But I see no help. Do you?Unless they remove, which I could not approve. That maiden of 82. 48 Some day Ill propose for shes sweet as a rose, And her heart, Im sure, is true;And white as the snow is the soul, I know, Of that maiden of 82. Her eyes are bright as the stars of night,And theyre deep as its deepest blue; They twinkle with fun, and then Im undoneBy that maiden of 82. Her eyes elude every glance thats rude,But Ive found them loving and true;As bright as a dream, their depth is beauty supreme, wlien love is our theme-Dear maiden of 82. Lcnvoy.(20 Years Later.) And now for life she is my wife,For she let me win as well as woo; And I still admire my boyhoods desire,The maiden of MY BABY 49 My Baby. In his love so deep and tender God makes good things to abound, But a sweeter little blessing Than my baby Ive not found. When were gathered round the hearth-stoneAnd the lamp is burning bright, Then to have a romp with papaFills him with supreme delight. Tlieres a magic in his manners Makes my old heart young and gay, While he chatters like a magpieIn a most enchanting way. When his bed time hour approachesAnd his eyes are heavy grown, He will whisper, Nowsome tories,In a low and sleepy tone. Then within my arms hed cuddleIn contentment most profound. And a sweeter little blessing Then my baby Ive not found. When I hear sharp voices striving,In the mart and on the street, How I wish all men had voicesLike my babys low and sweet. O, the jar and fret of commerce! O, the noises, loud and shrill!What relief comes in the twilight When you all are hushed and still! 50 Then this worlds once more an Eden,And my home its brightest spot W
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