Baby May, home poems and ballads

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Page 7 - That we'd ever have such dreamings, Till from sleep we see thee breaking, And we'd always have thee waking; Wealth for which we know no measure, Pleasure high above all pleasure, Gladness brimming over gladness, Joy in care — delight in sadness, Loveliness beyond completeness, Sweetness distancing all sweetness, Beauty all that beauty may be — That's May Bennett, that's my baby.
Page 7 - BABY'S SHOES. OH those little, those little blue shoes ! Those shoes that no little feet use. Oh the price were high That those shoes would buy, Those little blue unused shoes ! For they hold the small shape of feet That no more their mother's eyes meet, That, by God's good will, Years since, grew still, And ceased from their totter so sweet.
Page 6 - Hands all wants and looks all wonder At all things the heavens under, Tiny scorns of smiled reprovings That have more of love than lovings, Mischiefs done with such a winning Archness that we prize such sinning, Breakings dire of plates and glasses, Graspings small at all that passes...
Page 80 - The widow's cry that rose on high her only son to spare ! 0 bless'd be God that turned from him the sword and shot away ! And what to his old mother did my darling bid you say ?" " Mother, he saved his colonel's life, and bravely it was done ; In the despatch they told it all, and named and praised your son. A medal and a pension's his — good luck to him, I say ! And he has not a comrade but will wish him well to-day.
Page 80 - I've just come from the war; And well I know the 90th, and gallant lads they are ; From colonel down to rank and file, I know my comrades well, And news I've brought for you, mother, your Robert bade me tell.
Page 38 - ... mine grow cold ; Your aged eyes will see in mine all they've still shown to you, And mine in yours all they have seen since this old ring was new. And O, when death shall come at last to bid me to my rest, May I die looking in those eyes, and resting on that breast ! O may my parting gaze be...
Page 11 - A BLUE-EYED child that sits amid the noon, O'erhung with a laburnum's drooping sprays, Singing her little songs, while, softly round, Along the grass the chequered sunshine plays. All beauty that is throned in womanhood, Pacing a summer garden's fountained walks, That stoops to smooth a glossy spaniel down, To hide her flushing cheek from one who talks.
Page 6 - Poppies paleness — round large eyes Ever great with new surprise, Minutes filled with shadeless gladness, Minutes just as brimmed with sadness, Happy smiles and wailing cries, Crows and laughs and tearful eyes, Lights and shadows swifter born Than on wind-swept Autumn corn...
Page 36 - Yes" made you my loving wife ! Your heart will say the same, I know ; that day 's as dear to you, — That day that made me yours, dear wife, when this old ring was new. How well do I remember now your young sweet face that day ! How fair you were, how dear you were, my tongue could hardly say ; Nor how I doated on...
Page 81 - He's bronzed, and tann'd, and bearded, and you'd hardly know him, dame, We've made your boy into a man, but still his heart's the same: For often, dame, his talk's of you, and always to one tune, But there, his ship is nearly home, and he'll be with you soon.

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