Sonivale

 “Will you go a-maying, a-maying, a-maying,    Come and be my Queen of May and pluck the may with me? The fields are full of daisy buds and new lambs playing,    The bird is on the nest, dear, the blossom’s on the tree.” “If I go with you, if I go a-maying,    To be your Queen and wear my crown this May-day bright, Hand in hand straying, it must be only playing,    And playtime ends at sunset, and then good-night. “For I have heard of maidens who laughed and went a-maying,    Went out queens and lost their crowns and came back slaves. I will be no young man’s slave, submitting and obeying,    Bearing chains as those did, even to their graves.” “If you come a-maying, a-straying, a-playing,    We will pluck the little flowers, enough for you and me; And when the day dies, end our one day’s playing,    Give a kiss and take a kiss and go home free.” Edith Nesbit

Mary of Magdala came to bed; There were no soft curtains round her head; She had no mother to hold of worth The little baby she brought to birth. Mary of Magdala groaned and prayed: “O God, I am very much afraid; For out of my body, by sin defiled, Thou biddest me make a little child. “O God, I have turned my face from Thee To that which the angels may not see; How can I make, from my deep disgrace, A child whose angel shall see Thy face? “O God, I have sinned, and I know well That the pains I bear are the pains of hell; But the thought of the child that sin has given Is like the thought of the airs of Heaven.” Mary of Magdala held her breath In the clutch of pain like the pains of Death, And through her heart, like the mortal knife, Went the pang of joy and the pang of life. “We two are two alone,” said she, “And we are two who should be three; Now who will clothe my baby fair In the little garments that babies wear?” There came two angels with quiet wings And hands that were full of ...

  Somewhere out West there lies a sloping plain That looks across the winding river track A mile away to northward, bluish-black With elm and cottonwood, then up again Rises to meet the distant sky. Green grain And greener grass in spring; if fall wheat stack And pink brown prairie grass, stock at the rack, And marvels of sky this landscape doth contain. Here was my dear one born and passed her days, Familiar with each bird and flower and tree, Light-hearted, supple-thewed, a boy in ways, Knew nature, music, books, but knew not me. How beautiful her youth! yet I confess, The memory breeds in me strange loneliness. William Herbert Carruth

  When you've struggled hard and long And the battle has gone wrong    And a world of cares oppress you, Like cool water from a spring, Like the balm the south-winds bring,    Are the simple words, "God bless you." When you're going far away, Far from all you love to stray,    And the parting-pangs distress you, Like a sunbeam in the heart, Though the choking ,tears may start,    Are the words, "Good-bye, God bless        you." When the bitter days are past, When your joy is full at last,,    And the winds of heaven caress you, Then the heart will overflow While the happy head bends low    And a true friend says, "God bless you." Be his faith in James or Paul, One God, many, or none at all, William Herbert Carruth