O' the cabin, don't you know!

And then I think o' mother,
And how she ust to love 'em--
When they wuzn't any other,
'Less she found 'em up above 'em!
And her eyes, afore she shut 'em,
Whispered with a smile and said
We must pick a bunch and putt 'em
In her hand when she wuz dead.

But, as I wuz a-sayin',
They ain't no style about 'em
Very gaudy er displaying
But I wouldn't be without 'em,--
'Cause I'm happier in these posies,
And the hollyhawks and sich,
Than the hummin'-bird 'at noses
In the roses of the rich.





A COUNTRY PATHWAY


I come upon it suddenly, alone--
A little pathway winding in the weeds
That fringe the roadside; and with dreams my own,