The pretty star-eyes look out through,
And when you come up with the angels
I'll sure be the first to see you.

"And maybe I'll find my dear mamma;
And you'll come up, too, by-and-by,
And Birdie will watch for you, papa,
And open the gate of the sky."

The little hand falls from his shoulder
All nerveless, the blue eyes dilate,
A shuddering sigh, then the baby
Is waiting to open the gate.




WHITE HONEYSUCKLE.

White honeysuckle, "bond of love,"
Emblem born in Orient bowers,
Whence mythic Deities have wooed,
And told the soul's desire in flowers.
As sweet thy breath as Eden's balm,
As sweet and pure. Methinks that erst
Thy flower was of our earth a part,
Some angel hand the seed immersed
In fragrance of the lotus' heart,
And dropped it from the realm of calm.
And life of earth, and life above,