Grief in a hopeless cause!--
Hope--hope is for the man that _dies_--
What for the man that _thaws!_
O Hero of a hero's make!--
Let _marble_ melt and fade,
But never _you_--you old Snow-Man
That Noey Bixler made!




"LITTLE JACK JANITOR"

And there, in that ripe Summer-night, once more
A wintry coolness through the open door
And window seemed to touch each glowing face
Refreshingly; and, for a fleeting space,
The quickened fancy, through the fragrant air,
Saw snowflakes whirling where the roseleaves were,
And sounds of veriest jingling bells again
Were heard in tinkling spoons and glasses then.

Thus Uncle Mart's old poem sounded young
And crisp and fresh and clear as when first sung,
Away back in the wakening of Spring
When his rhyme and the robin, chorusing,
Rumored, in duo-fanfare, of the soon
Invading johnny-jump-ups, with platoon
On platoon of sweet-williams, marshaled fine
To bloomed blarings of the trumpet-vine.