My Home

This is the place that I love the best, A little brown house like a ground-bird’s nest, Hid among grasses, and vines, and trees, Summer retreat of the birds and bees.

The tenderest light that ever was seen Sifts through the vine-made window screen— Sifts and quivers, and flits and falls On home-made carpets and gray-hung walls.

All through June, the west wind free The breath of the clover brings to me. All through the languid July day I catch the scent of the new-mown hay.

The morning glories and scarlet vine Over the doorway twist and twine; And every day, when the house is still, The humming-bird comes to the window-sill.

In the cunningest chamber under the sun I sink to sleep when the day is done; And am waked at morn, in my snow-white bed, By a singing-bird on the roof o’erhead.

Better than treasures brought from Rome Are the living pictures I see at home— My aged father, with frosted hair, And mother’s face like a painting rare Far from the city’s dust and heat, I get but sounds and odours sweet. Who can wonder I love to stay, Week after week, here hidden away, In this sly nook that I love the best— The little brown house, like a ground-bird’s nest?

TO MARRY OR NOT TO MARRY? A GIRL’S REVERIE

Mother says, “Be in no hurry, Marriage oft means care and worry.”

Auntie says, with manner grave, “Wife is synonym for slave.”

Father asks, in tones commanding, “How does Bradstreet rate his standing?”

Sister crooning to her twins, Sighs, “With marriage care begins.”

Grandma, near life’s closing days, Murmurs, “Sweet are girlhood’s ways.”

Maud, twice widowed (“sod and grass”) Looks at me and moans “Alas!”

They are six, and I am one, Life for me has just begun.

They are older, calmer, wiser: Age should aye be youth’s adviser.

They must know—and yet, dear me, When in Harry’s eyes I see

All the world of love there burning— On my six advisers turning,

I make answer, “Oh, but Harry Is not like most men who marry.

“Fate has offered me a prize, Life with love means Paradise.

“Life without it is not worth All the foolish joys of earth.”

So, in spite of all they say, I shall name the wedding day.