Have you not heard the poets tell
How came the dainty Baby Bell
Into this world of ours?
The gates of heaven were left ajar;
With folded hands and dreamy eyes,
Wandering out of Paradise,
She saw this planet, like a star,
Hung in the glistening depths of even, —
Its bridges, running to and fro,
O'er which the white-winged angels go,
Bearing the holy dead to heaven.
She touched a bridge of flowers, — those feet,
So light they did not bend the bells

Have you met Miss Mabel Green
Who makes all kind of gel-a-tine?
'Cause she sells it very high
To get any better you need not try
I've known her for a great long time
All kind of jelly is in her line
If it look like jelly, shake like jelly
it must be gel-a-tine

If you chance to pass her way
You will hear her singing most every day
If it look like jelly, shake like jelly
it must be gel-a-tine

You won't try it, you gonna buy it
here's just what I mean

HAVE YOU HEARD the tale of the aloe plant,
Away in the sunny clime?
By humble growth of a hundred years
It reaches its blooming time;
And then a wondrous bud at its crown
Breaks into a thousand flowers;
This floral queen in its blooming seen
Is the pride of the tropical bowers;
But the plant to the flower is a sacrifice,
For it blooms but once, and in blooming dies.

Have you heard the tale of the pelican,
The Arab's Gomel el Bahr,
That dwells in the African solitudes
Where the birds that live lonely are?

Have you heard the Master's call?
Will you go forsaking all?
Millions still in sin and shame
Ne'er have heard the Saviour's name.

Some may give and some may pray,
But for you He calls today—
Will you answer: “Here am I,”
Or must Jesus pass you by?

Have you heard their bitter cry?
Can you bear to see them die,
Thousands who in darkest night,
Never yet have seen the light?

Soon 'twill be too late to go
And your love for Jesus show.
Oh, then quickly haste away—
Tarry not another day!

What if you refuse to go?

Have you ever tried to get along
With someone whom you felt was wrong
In attitude and thought and speech;
Whose fellowship you could not reach?

Have you ever been misunderstood
Believing that your aims were good
By one who simply would not see
Your views, or with your words agree?

And has it also seemed that you,
If in his place, would try to do
In word and thought and deed the thing
That to yourself would comfort bring?

Then, having changed the parts around
And looking further, have you found

Have you ever heard the wind go " Yooooo " ?
'Tis a pitiful sound to hear!
It seems to chill you through and through
With a strange and speechless fear.
'Tis the voice of the night that broods outside
When folk should be asleep,
And many and many's the time I've cried
To the darkness brooding far and wide
Over the land and the deep:
" Whom do you want, O lonely night,
That you wail the long hours through? "
And the night would say in its ghostly way:
" Yoooooooo!
Yoooooooo!
Yoooooooo! "

My mother told me long ago

Have you ever heard of the Sugar-Plum Tree?
'Tis a marvel of great renown!
It blooms on the shore of the Lollipop sea
In the garden of Shut-Eye Town;
The fruit that it bears is so wondrously sweet
(As those who have tasted it say)
That good little children have only to eat
Of that fruit to be happy next day.

When you've got to the tree, you would have a hard time
To capture the fruit which I sing;
The tree is so tall that no person could climb
To the boughs where the sugar-plums swing.
But up in that tree sits a chocolate cat,

HAVE YOU COME to the Red Sea place in your life,
Where, in spite of all you can do,
There is no way out, there is no way back,
There is no other way but through?
Then wait on the Lord, with a trust serene,
Till the night of your fear is gone;
He will send the winds, He will heap the floods,
When He says to your soul, “Go on!”

And His hand shall lead you through, clear through,
Ere the watery walls roll down;
No wave can touch you, no foe can smite,
No mightiest sea can drown.
The tossing billows may rear their crests,

“H AVE you been with the King to Rome,
Brother, big brother?”
“I've been there and I've come home.
Back to your play, little brother.”

“Oh, how high is Cæsar's house,
Brother, big brother?”
“Goats about the doorways browse:
Night hawks nest in the burnt roof-tree,
Home of the wild bird and home of the bee.
A thousand chambers of marble lie
Wide to the sun and the wind and the sky.
Poppies we find amongst our wheat
Grow on Cæsar's banquet seat.
Cattle crop and neatherds drowse
On the floors of Cæsar's house.”

Have pity, pity, friends, have pity on me,
Thus much at least, may it please you, of your grace!
I lie not under hazel or hawthorn-tree
Down in this dungeon ditch, mine exile's place
By leave of God and fortune's foul disgrace.
Girls, lovers, glad young folk and newly wed,
Jumpers and jugglers, tumbling heel o'er head,
Swift as a dart, and sharp as needle-ware,
Throats clear as bells that ring the kine to shed,
Your poor old friend, what, will you leave him there?

Singers that sing at pleasure, lawlessly,