Solitude ELLA WHEELER WILCOX (Born November 5, 1855; Died Oct. 30, 1919) Laugh, and the world laughs with you; For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, Sing, and the hills will answer; Sigh, it is lost on the air. The echoes bound to a joyful sound, Rejoice, and men will seek you; There are none to decline your nectared wine, Feast, and your halls are crowded; Reprinted from "Poems of Passion" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox. By special permission W. B. Conkey Company, Hammond, Ind. Knee-Deep in June JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY "On an early day in a memorable October, Reuben A. Riley and his wife, Elizabeth Marine Riley, rejoiced over the birth of their second son. They called him James Whitcomb From "The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley" Bobbs-Merrill Company (in 6 volumes.) Mr. Riley always replies when asked the direct question as to his age, "I am this side of forty." Oct. 7, 1853, is the generally accepted date of his birth. (Died July 22, 1916) what I like the best- And not work at nothin' else! Orchard's where I'd ruther be— Jes' the whole sky overhead, Sprawl out len'thways on the grass Where the shadders thick and soft Mother fixes in the loft Jes' a-sorto' lazin' there S'lazy, 'at you peek and peer And don't know it, ner don't keer! Got some sorto' interest- Er the Bob-white raise and whiz Ketch a shadder down below, Hear the old hen squawk, and squat Pee-wees' singin', to express In them base-ball clothes o' his, Sun out in the fields kin sizz, In the shade 's where glory is! Plague! ef they ain't somepin' in My convictions!-'long about Jes' a-restin' through and through, I could git along without Nothin' else at all to do Only jes' a-wishin' you Wuz a-gittin' there like me, Lay out there and try to see Jes' how lazy you kin be! Tumble round and souse yer head I' betwixt the beautiful Clouds o' gold and white and blue!Month a man kin railly love— June, you know, I'm talkin' of! ། March aint never nothin' new!- Brash fer me! and May-I jes' 'Fore daylight and snows ag'in!— But when June comes- Clear my throat Whoop out loud! and throw my And obleeged to you at that! hat! Master of human destinies am I. Fame, love, and fortune on my footsteps wait, I stay my haste, I make delays- Asleep, awake, by night or day, The friends I seek are seeking me, No wind can drive my bark astray Nor change the tide of destiny. What matter if I stand alone? I wait with joy the coming years; My heart shall reap where it has sown, And garner up its fruit of tears. The waters know their own, and draw The stars come nightly to the sky; Nor time, nor space, nor deep, nor high, |