Verse is your true employ.
And surely, Thomas Bailey,
In all this new-world mêlée
Too seldom comes the poet,
And when he does we know it!
Yes, no one else can do
The work that's play to you.
So spend your precious time in
Your master art of rhymin',
Then shall you keep the praise
Of these and future days.
1893.
VI—A THEME
"Give me a theme," the little poet cried,
"And I will do my part."
"'T is not a theme you need," the world replied,
"You need a heart."
VII—THE CHRISTMAS TREE IN THE NURSERY
(FOR F. AND R.)
With wild surprise
Four great eyes
In two small heads
From neighboring beds
Looked out—and winkt—
And glittered and blinkt
At a very queer sight
In the dim dawn-light.
As plain as can be
A fairy tree
Flashes and glimmers
And shakes and shimmers.
Red, green, and blue
