Back she came through the trembling dusk;
— And her mother spoke and said:
" What is it makes you late to-day,
And why do you smile and sing as gay
— As though you just were wed? "
" Oh mother, my hen that never had chicks
— Has hatched out six! "

Back she came through the flaming dusk;
— And her mother spoke and said:
" What gives your eyes that dancing light,
What makes your lips so strangely bright,
— And why are your cheeks so red? "
" Oh mother, the berries I ate in the lane
— Have left a stain. "

Back from the trebly crimsoned field
Terrible words are thunder-tost;
Full of the wrath that will not yield,
Full of revenge for battles lost!
Hark to their echo, as it crost
The Capital, making faces wan:
" End this murderous holocaust;
Abraham Lincoln, give us a MAN !

" Give us a man of God's own mold,
Born to marshal his fellow-men;
One whose fame is not bought and sold
At the stroke of a politician's pen;
Give us the man of thousands ten,
Fit to do as well as to plan;
Give us a rallying-cry, and then,

Back and forth
go the ferries,
back and forth
from shore to shore,
hauling people, trucks and autos,
back and forth
from shore to shore.


Back and forth
go the ferries,
either end
is bow or stern;
good old poky, clumsy ferries
they don't even
have to turn.

Back and forth
go the ferries,
Here's a freighter!
There's a barge!
Nosing through the harbor traffic,
tugs and steamers
small and large.


Back and forth
go the ferries;
anxiously
the captains steer

Bacchus must now his power resign--
I am the only God of Wine!
It is not fit the wretch should be
In competition set with me,
Who can drink ten times more than he.

Make a new world, ye powers divine!
Stock'd with nothing else but Wine:
Let Wine its only product be,
let Wine be earth, and air, and sea--
And let that Wine be all for me!

The baby moon, a canoe, a silver papoose canoe, sails and sails in the Indian west.
A ring of silver foxes, a mist of silver foxes, sit and sit around the Indian moon.
One yellow star for a runner, and rows of blue stars for more runners, keep a line of watchers.
O foxes, baby moon, runners, you are the panel of memory, fire-white writing tonight of the Red Man's dreams.
Who squats, legs crossed and arms folded, matching its look against the moon-face, the star-faces, of the West?

A BABY lying on his mother's breast
Draws life from that sweet fount;
He takes his rest
And heaves deep sighs;
With brooding eyes
Of soft content
She shelters him within that fragrant nest,
And scarce refrains from crushing him
With tender violence,
His rosebud mouth, each rosy limb
Excite such joy intense;
Rocked on that gentle billow,
She sings into his ear
A song that angels stoop to hear.
Blest child and mother doubly blest!
Such his first pillow.

A man outwearied with the world's mad race

1. Baby is sleeping so cozy and
fair, While mother sits near in her old oaken chair, Her
foot on the rocker the cradle she swings, And though baby
slumbers he hears what she sings.
2. Grandma sits knitting close by the fire-
place, With snowy white hair and a smile on her face, The
years have passed by, yet it does not seem long, Since she rocked baby's
papa to sleep with that song,
3. Dear little baby, their joy and their
pride, Long may he be with them whatever betide, The
kitchen, the cradle, that tender refrain, In mem'ry will

Baby I'm going
down town
and tell the chief police you
sicking your dogs on me

She went a-running
running and crying
she said, li-
sten god I ain't gonna do it no more,
ain't gonna do it no more

You done got
my money
now you trying to
sic your dogs on me

That's all right
little girl
how you do me
you ain't gonna do it again

I'm gonna tell
the chief
you got your dogs on me, told me
you didn't want me around

Oh li-
sten chief
she done got my money, now

Baby I
can see
just what's on your mind
Baby I
can see
just what's on your mind
You got a long black woman with her gold teeth in her face

I take a long
look
right smack down in your mind
I take a long
look
right smack down in your mind
And I don't see but one woman rambling up and down the line

Don't kid
your mama
you ain't fooling nobody but your self
Oh don't kid
your mama
you ain't fooling nobody but yourself
And what I see on your mind you would not have no friend

I remem-

The babe, with a cry brief and dismal,
Fell into the water baptismal;
Ere they'd gathered its plight,
It had sunk out of sight,
For the depth of the font was abysmal.