



Produced by Larry B. Harrison. Chuck Greif and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)









                                 POEMS

                                  BY

                          JENNIE EARNGEY HILL

                      s [Illustration: colophon]

                                BOSTON

                           THE GORHAM PRESS

                               MCMXVIII

                COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY JENNIE EARNGEY HILL

                          All Rights Reserved

                 Made in the United States of America

                   The Gorham Press, Boston, U.S.A.


                                  TO

                            MY BELOVED AUNT

                   MRS. JENNIE HEWES CALDWELL, PH.D.




CONTENTS


                        PAGE
SONG OF THE BROOK          9

A SLEIGHING SONG          10

THE DRESDEN MAID          12

SONG OF THE BEE           13

THE GOLDFINCH             14

BONNY BUNNY               15

WHEN SNOWFLAKES FALL      16

OUR COW                   17

ODE TO A BROOK            18

CONSECRATION              19

ENCHANTMENT               20

LIFE’S DAY                21

FOR YOU                   22

DISTANCE                  23

ALONE                     24

WINTER                    25

LOVE’S MESSAGE            26

MY TRIBUTE                27

HEARTBLOOM                28

DEATH’S SPECTRE           29

DREAMING                  30

SAILING                   31

FISHIN’                   32

LIFE’S SUNSET             34

THE MEADOWLARK            35

NATURE’S GAME             37

A BIT O’ CHEER            38

THOT                      39




POEMS




SONG OF THE BROOK


    Whispering brooklet running nigh,
    Do tell why love must die,
    Brooklet onward toward yon sea,
    Speak to me! speak to me!
    Do tell why love must die,
    Tiny brooklet flowing by.
    For aye! Oh, tell why!

    Brooklet gently gurgling by
    Must love die e’en for aye,
    Tell why shouldst love die;
    Oh, why must love die,
    Tell why! For aye! For aye!

The above was set to the music “The Brook” by Theodore Lack.




A SLEIGHING SONG


    Slipping, sliding, high then low,
    O’er the ice and fleecy snow,
    Hearts attune with all around,
    Merrily away we bound;
    While jubilant our spirits fling
    Echoes of their reigning king,
    Till circling air seems drunken quite,
    Breathing revelry tonight.
    Boist’rously we raise good cheer,
    One in voice and accent clear;
    As bracing wine such atmosphere,
    With love like thine,
    Maiden of the dell,
    Loud thy praises swell,
    Life’s rhapsody
    For me but thee,
    Thru the livelong day
    If at work or play.

    ’Tis living dew thy lips impart,
    Nectar to a fainting heart;
    Thine eyes--gems of beauteous hues,
    Amber mid the blues,
    Gleam Paradise--’gainst yon sparkling snow,
    Twinkling as they go;
    Thy cheeks transmit roseate light,
    Tint the dancing white,
    Heart-throb bespeaks
    Earthly paragon,
    Binding two in one,
    In this--our sleighing time, our playing time,
    Our sleighing, playing, sleighing time.

    Moonbeams falling, gently trace
    Lovers’ secrets on each face,
    As to and fro they skip--perchance,
    Lending joy with each fond glance,
    While slipping, sliding, high then low,
    O’er the ice and drifting snow,
    Till circling air seems drunken quite
    Breathing revelry tonight;
    Boist’rously we raise good cheer,
    One in voice and accent clear;
    As bracing wine such atmosphere
    With love like thine,
    Maiden of the dell,
    Loud thy praises swell,
    Life’s rhapsody for me but thee,
    Thru the livelong day
    If at work or play.

    I love you in the sleighing time,
    I love you with a love sublime,
    Oh, give to me that heart of thine,
    In this, our sleighing time, our playing time,
    Our sleighing, playing, sleighing time.

Set to music “Arab