{"1": {"fulltext": "IPS 3537\\n.118345\\n15\\n1900\\nCopy 1\\nm B HHBHBHHSKH\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0\u00e2\u0096\u00a0\u00e2\u0096\u00a0\u00e2\u0096\u00a0\u00e2\u0096\u00a0\u00e2\u0096\u00a0\u00e2\u0096\u00a0\u00e2\u0096\u00a0HHHHBHBHSi\\nS\u00c2\u00a7!\u00c2\u00a7 H\\nMB\\nHBN\\nHa 1\\nfei\\ntns bv T. Berry Srni\\nBHFS", "height": "3436", "width": "2287", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "LIBRARY OF CONGRESS.\\nChap. Copyright No.---\\nShelfHSH5i5\\n/?60\\nUNITED STATES OF AMERICA.", "height": "3232", "width": "2164", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3232", "width": "2164", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "ITn flftan? flfcoote-\\nPOEMS BY\\nT* Berry Smith*\\nFAYETTE, MO.\\n1900.", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "25 8\\nw t*\\nAUG 3 1900\\n7281Q\\nCopyright, 1900, by T. Berry Smith.\\nM. B. YEAMAN, Fainter, Fayette, Mo.", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "INDEX.\\nAbove the Mists 22\\nAfter 44\\nAfter the Storm, Peace 20\\nAfter Twenty Years 21\\nAn Exhortation 35\\nAs Man Wills 25\\nAt a Church Wedding 23\\nAt Life s High Noon 19\\nAutograph 26\\nAutumn Conceit 18\\nBull and Boar\u00e2\u0080\u0094 A Fable 74\\nCain and Abel 89\\nChristmas in Ashantee 91\\nClock s Monitions 27\\nCoequal Mates 24\\nCome Ye Blessed 28\\nConstancy 40\\nCradle Song 26\\nCrossing the Bar 30\\nCurfew Will Be Rung at Night 14\\nDead Leaves in the Wind 32\\nDon t Cheer, Boys 76\\nDreamland 82\\nDying Child 41\\nEvery Little Helps S3\\nFaith 33\\nFor Greed of Empire or of Gold 73\\nGaffer 36\\nGeorge Washington 44\\nGod s Work and Man s 81\\nHieroglyphics of God 7\\nHoeman s Protest 10\\nIllustrious Live3 34\\nIntimations of Immortality 84\\nIn de City ob St. Louis in 1903 98\\nIn Memory of 53\\nIn Memoriam 49", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "In the Chapel Choir 45\\nInsistency of Song 50\\nIt Touched a Chord 51\\nJacob s Dream 55\\nKate and Esau 93\\nLasses 87\\nLife is What We Will 20\\nLookUp 48\\nLord of All Life 13\\nLuck and Pluck 64\\nMinniamo Arkla 97\\nMinstrel of the Air 57\\nMother Love 61\\nMy Deathless Self 83\\nNature s Worship 58\\nNight 81\\nNight Bringeth Rest 60\\nOde to Shakespeare 62\\nOnce a Piker Always a Piker 92\\nPikers at Home 63\\nPossum Huntin 94\\nQuestions for the Materialist 65\\nRemember Me 80\\nResignation 65\\nSleep and Death 47\\nSong of Thanksgiving 66\\nThe Hearse 82\\nThe Grave 83\\nThey Voted Straight for Pike 90\\nThree Blues of Springtime 72\\nTo the North Wind 80\\nTo a Mourning Robin 59\\nTo a Comet 9\\nTo a Young Man 67\\nUnknown to Unknown 70\\nUnder the Stars 67\\nVernalia 1\\nVictoria Regina. 71\\nWestward 68\\nWife of Benedict Arnold 78\\nWind and Tide 79", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "Ifn flhnny flftoobs.\\nPART I.\\nIN SOBER STRAIN.", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "FOREVERSE.\\nI would rather be the factor\\nOf a song the world repeats\\nThan the blood illumined actor\\nDrawn in triumph thro the streets;\\nHis the victor s scenic glory\\nDying with the rabble s cheers;\\nMine the poet s classic story\\nLiving thro the lapsing years.", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "VERNALIA.\\n(pictures of springtime.)\\nBowed at thy altar,\\nTrembling I falter,\\nBringing, O Spring, this offering of mine;\\nToiling I ve builded\\nFrames that are gilded\\nRound about many a picture of thine.\\nI.\\nSunshine and showers\\nWaken the flowers\\nWaken the innocent flowers from rest;\\nLong they ve been sleeping,\\nMother Earth keeping\\nLovingly, warmly, clasped to her breast.\\nII.\\nFirst of the number\\nWaking from slumber,\\nCreeping the moldering foliage through,\\nLike a good angel\\nBringing evangel,\\nComes the wild violet nodding and blue.", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "III.\\nButtercups golden\\nSkyward are holden\\nSet to catch raindrops spilled from the clouds,-\\nSet for night s brewing\\nDewdrops accruing\\nWhile the stars shine and stillness enshrouds.\\nIV.\\nDown from their sources,\\nSwift in their courses,\\nBrooklets unfettered frolic and fall;\\nDrink that divine is,\\nBetter than wine is,\\nBring they unstinted, priceless to all.\\nV.\\nLightnings and thunder\\nWaken our wonder,\\nBorn of the raincloud suddenly brewed,\\nBreath of its blowing,\\nTears of its flowing\\nFalling on plowed land, meadow and wood.\\nVI.\\nNightly in Bogland,\\nKingdom of Frogland,\\nTraineth a multitudinous choir;\\nBass note and treble\\nPebble gainst pebble,\\nCastanet, drum and dissonant lyre.", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "VII.\\nSinging with gladness,\\nBanishing sadness,\\nBack from the southland winging their flight,\\nCome the sweet singers,\\nMerriment bringers,\\nBirds of the daytime\u00e2\u0080\u0094 birds of the night.\\nVIII.\\nForemost and bluest,\\nType of the truest,\\nCometh the bluebird heralding change;\\nNever come mortals\\nBack to old portals\\nGladder than bluebirds do to old range.\\nIX.\\nRobin the Redbreast\\nSeems to have dread lest\\nNever his sweet song all will be sung;\\nDaybreak he trilleth,\\nEventide filleth\\nFull of the magical notes of his tongue.\\nX.\\nYellow as gold is\\nWondrously bold is\\nOriole building out on the tips\\nOut where the straying\\nWinds will blow, swaying,\\nSwinging her hammock proof against slips.", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "XL\\nOld haunts reviewing,\\nOld loves renewing,\\nSwallows come twittering under the sky\\nNot till the gloaming\\nDo they cease roaming,\\nNot till the night fall chimneyward fly.\\nXII.\\nThen when night falleth\\nWhippoorwill calleth\\nPiping thrice iterate notes that are quaint;\\nIf in the nearness,\\nStrong in their clearness,\\nIf the farness, flutelike and faint.\\nXIII.\\nLo! how the sombre\\nWoodlands encumber\\nAll of their tree tops thickly with leaves\\nLooms where the sunshine\\nFabric that s spun fine\\nThrough the long summer silently weaves.\\nXIV.\\nWhite camps of apple\\nGreen valleys dapple,\\nFloating their banners high in the sun,\\nCamps where hereafter\\nJubilant laughter\\nWitness shall be of victories won.", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "XV.\\nFair as blush laden\\nCheek of a maiden,\\nHued like a sea shell charming us so,\\nCrabtrees their blushing\\nPetals are flushing\\nDashes of dawn laid lightly on snow.\\nXVI.\\nWinter s sleep ended\\nBeauty that s splendid\\nBursts from the cerements chrysalids wear;\\nType of that urgent\\nSeason when surgent\\nNations shall meet the Lord in the air.\\nXVII.\\nWhile the night shadows\\nGloom o er the meadows\\nScintillant fireflies rise from the grass,\\nSeeming like sparkling\\nStars that shoot darkling,\\nSwift to be lost in solitudes vast.\\nXVIII.\\nWhen the cock croweth\\nWhile the day groweth,\\nRises the farm boy ruddy as wine,\\nRises and ranges\\nOver the granges,\\nUp from the grassland driving the kine.\\n5", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "XIX.\\nForth to their sowing\\nFarmers are going,\\nThey of the wheatland, oatland and corn;\\nOft while the dayspring\\nPlumeth its gray wing\\nThese are out breathing the fragrance of morn.\\nXX.\\nChildren are playing\\nAll the day staying\\nOut where the sunshine warmeth the air,\\nGathering of pleasure\\nBountiful measure,\\nBearing no burdens, knowing no care.\\nXXI.\\nSunshine and showers!\\nFoliage and flowers!\\nThis is Love s season look at the birds!\\nLo! from his portal\\nMan the immortal\\nGoeth awooing, saying sweet words.\\nXXII.\\nPraises I bring thee,\\nSpring, and I sing thee\\nPaeans of gladness chorused with mirth;\\nGlad all the birds are,\\nGlad all the herds are,\\nGlad all the people, glad the whole earth.\\n6 \u00e2\u0080\u00941887.", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "HIEROGLYPHICS OF GOD.\\nThey are the Hieroglyphics of God. Archbishop Trench.)\\n(Jlussicus.\\nWhy all of this toiling in nature\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nThis study of flowers and rocks?\\nWhat profit can come to the watcher\\nBy night, of the heavenly flocks?\\nWhy gather the life of the ocean,\\nThe life of the land and the air?\\nWhy follow the wind and the lightning\\nIn search of their mystical lair?\\nPkysicus.\\nMost gladly I answer your questions,\\nO delver in classical lore,\\nWhose joy is the study of language\\nBrought out of oblivion s store.\\nYou linger o er human inscriptions\\nExhumed from the crypt and the clod,\\nWe study the language of nature\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nThe hieroglyphics of God.\\nThese beautiful flowers that blossom\\nAnd grow without limit or dearth,\\nWhich after the winter come teeming\\nFrom hidden recesses of earth,\\nBring message to us of the rising\\nOf long sleeping men from the sod,\\nThis message is written in flowers\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nThe hieroglyphics of God.\\n7", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "The globe is a hoary old volume\\nWhose leaves are the layers of stone,\\nAnd on them in letters of fossil\\nThe tale of the ages is strewn;\\nTo read it we gather the fossils\\nAnd tracks where the Saurians trod,\\nAnd bring them in patience together\\nThe hieroglyphics of God.\\nAbove us the scroll of the heavens\\nFor patient translation is spread,\\nAnd mighty in bright constellations\\nCan the tale of the kosmos be read;\\nBy scannning the sky thro the centuries\\nWhile other men slumbering nod,\\nThe watchers unravel their meaning\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nThose hieroglyphics of God.\\nWe gather the life of the ocean,\\nThe life of the land and the air,\\nAnd patiently search for the kinship\\nThat each to the other does bear;\\nNo matter how strangely constructed,\\nNo matter how common, how odd,\\nThese creatures are chapters of record\\nIn hieroglyphics of God.\\nThe wind and the lightning we study\\nTho mystery their origin shroud\\nThe one is born of the sunshine,\\nThe other is born of the cloud;\\n8", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0018.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "They both may be caged for a moment\\nAnd energize bellows or rod,\\nBut both are the symbols of spirit\\nAnd hieroglyphics of God.\\nYour puzzles were gendered by mortals,\\nYour problems invented by men,\\nWho tarried awhile in the earth life\\nThen vanished forever again.\\nBut ours have Author undying\\nWhose pen is a magical rod:\\nForever His scroll of the heavens is spread-\\nForever His flowery page to be read\\nForever His fossils discourse of the dead\\nAll hieroglyphics of God.\\nJanuary, 1888.\\nTO A COMET.\\nO wanderer from where dost thou come to my sight\\nAnd whither art going so radiantly robed?\\nHast been to the uttermost limits of night,\\nAnd far into Nature s deep mysteries probed?\\nNo answer! No speech! O mysterious thing\\nThat burnest thy torch in the heavenly spans!\\nFar from me my boasting of wisdom I fling\\nAnd bowing I bury my face in my hands.\\n1887.", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0019.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "THE HOEMAN S PROTEST.\\n(In answer to Markham s Man With the Hoe.\\nAssailed, maligned, called thing and shape\\nand slave\\nAnd brother to the ox, to make protest\\nAnd fling the impeachment back, I stand today\\nTo plead my cause before a juried world.\\nIn terms of legal lore this is my brief:\\n*One skilled in art saw me one day afield,\\nRough-shod, unkempt and bending o er the clods,\\nAnd limned me so, making me as I seemed\\nThat selfsame hour. Later a ^poet s eye\\nFell on the work the painter s hand had wrought,\\nAnd he was set to musing. Then he wrote,\\nWrote metred lines high on the peaks of song,\\nSeeing, not me a living figure formed\\nOf flesh and blood and filled with breath of God,\\nBut my poor picture motionless and dead.\\nThe painter meant me type specific, saw\\nOne phase of many featured life and fixed\\nIt on his canvas copying sober fact.\\nThe poet made me type generic, saw\\nAt second hand the painter s glimpse of truth,\\nThen wrote at random following fancy s train.\\njuried world before whose bar I stand,\\n1 pray you patience while I make my plea.\\nHear ye a parable. One day at eve\\nOne skilled in art looked on the low-hung moon,\\n*Jean Millet. JEdwin Markham.\\nIO", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0020.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "A crooked rim above the western hills,\\nAnd limned its likeness on his seamless cloth.\\nIn after years somewhere mid cloistering walls\\nThat painters sketch a poet s fancy charmed\\nAnd woke his muse to sing in lofty strains:\\nThis is the moon, a poor, pale crooked form,\\nThe relic of a once majestic world\\nIn outstretched arms holding her fossil self\\nWould you, O world, subscribe the sentiment,\\nWould you those lines applaud as all the truth,\\nWho o er and o er above the eastern hills\\nHave seen the moon in full-orbed splendor rise\\nAnd yield rich radiance thro night s sunless hours?\\nSuch pictures, beautiful tho they be and true,\\nPortray at best for man and moon alike\\nA single phase; but moons and men have both\\nA thousand phases, changing hour by hour,\\nAnd many a phase have I.\\nLo! while I speak\\nI am no longer bending o er the clods,\\nBut stand erect with brow upturned to heaven\\nAnd plead my cause, a very son of God\\nTho leaning on the hoe.\\nI am no craven.\\nWhen bugles blow and herald voice is heard\\nCrying the call to arms and war s alarm,\\nNone sooner hears or better soldier makes\\nNor ever has in any age. Behold,\\nFrom field and plow and peaceful rural scenes\\nii", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0021.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "Came Cincinnatus and great Washington!\\nI am no dullard. Countless of my kind\\nHave worn with pride the scholar s cap and gown,\\nAdorned the judge s bench, the bishop s seat,\\nAnd added luster to the thrones of kings.\\nI am no underling. I am the staff\\nOn which the whole world leans. I am the stock\\nThe old Edenic stock\u00e2\u0080\u0094from which have sprung\\nAll other tribes of men. I am indeed\\nThe seedcorn of the race.\\nAnd know ye this:\\nFrom Eden until now, from Adam s self\\nUnto his latest born, the hoe has been\\nThe sign of toil appointed me of God,\\nBut I who bear it, battling with the clods,\\nAm not therewith disgraced. I may bend o er\\nI must to wield the hoe and so be found,\\nBegrimed, unkempt and clad in coarsest garb,\\nYet Kings and Monarchs have not bowed me down,\\nNor am I serf dependent on their boon:\\nI am the freest of all the sons of men\\nAnd richest I of all my kith and kin;\\nOf Nature s dower round me everywhere,\\nMy heritage the first-born s double share.\\nThe trades of other men are all their own\\nAnd have their limitations, hedging life\\nIn meagre metes and bounds, but this of mine,\\nGiven of God, has neither hedge nor hem,\\nGoes on when others cease, owns earth and air,\\nThe dews of morn, the frequent showers of rain,\\n12", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0022.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "The blessed light of oft recurring suns,\\nAnd, best of all, the infinite Father s care.\\nSo I protest and fling the impeachment back.\\nI, son of Adam, first born son of God,\\nAm not a slave, a brother to the ox,\\nA thing that grieves not and that never hopes.\\nI am the central figure in all the world\\nWhich the horizon bounds, and other men\\nAttend me as the planets do the sun;\\nFrom me they draw all bounty, all support,\\nAnd in my failure find their surest loss.\\nAugust, 1899.\\nLORD OF ALL LIFE.\\nLord of all life, be thou the Lord of mine,\\nHelp me to know, in service such as thine,\\nIs happiest lot that mortal can possess\\nIn serving thee is truest happiness.\\nLord of all life, of mine be thou the Lord\\nTill death do clip this earthlife s tenuous cord,\\nAnd then in heaven thy royal throne before\\nLet me still serve, and serving, thee adore.\\nLord of all life, of mine the Lord be thou\\nTill fails the form I wear in service now,\\nAnd when I yield fore er this vital breath\\nStill let me serve beyond the bounds of death.\\n1894.\\n13", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0023.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "CURFEW WILL BE RUNG AT NIGHT.\\nO er the hills the sun was setting, many a year had\\ntaken flight\\nSince that maiden triumphed, saying Curfew shall\\nnot ring to-night,\\nBut the sexton long so faithful did not ring the\\ncurfew bell\\nAs the twilight shadows lengthened and the hush\\nof evening fell;\\nSince the morning sun had risen he had lost his\\nmortal might\\nAnd could only lie and murmur: Curfew can not\\nring to-night.\\nIt was summer, and his couch was placed beside a\\nlatticed case\\nSo the cooling winds could enter and blow o er his\\npallid face.\\nNow around and o er that lattice grew a vine of\\nliving green\\nAll so densely interwoven that no sunlight came\\nbetween,\\nBut a passing happy maiden, rosy as the western\\nlight,\\nCaught the old man s feeble murmur: Curfew\\ncan not ring to-night.\\nThey were friends, the man and maiden. In the\\ndays forever flown\\nH", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0024.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "He had told her many a story of the trials he had\\nknown;\\nSo his troubled lamentation took a firm hold on\\nher mind\\nAnd her heart and hands enlisted in a secret\\nservice kind,\\nFor she forthwith turned her footsteps to the belfry\\nfull in sight,\\nRan and rang the evening curfew as it long had\\nbeen at night.\\nWhen the deep reverberations of the mighty\\nclanging tongue\\nOf the bell that quaked and quivered as it to-and-\\nfroward swung,\\nRolled and rippled thro the lattice to the couch\\nwhereon he lay,\\nThen a look of sweet surprisal o er his face began\\nto play,\\nAnd he said: Good woman, tell me who it is that\\nknows my plight\\nAnd is in the belfry ringing dear old curfew bell\\nto-night?\\nAnswered then the old wife: Goodman, I know\\nnot who rings the bell;\\nMay be elves or fairies ring it\u00e2\u0080\u0094 but I m sure I can\\nnot tell.\\nAnswered then the old man nothing, but in mood\\nto death akin\\n15", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0025.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "Lay in peace and listened listened to the sonance\\nfloating in;\\nThus he lay and listened listened till had faded\\nday s last light\\nAnd the moon had grown resplendent in the fore-\\nground of the night.\\nWhen it ceased the old man whispered: I shall\\nhear those tones no more;\\nWhen again the curfew soundeth, I ll be on the\\nother shore.\\nI have tried to do my duty, tho my lot has lowly\\nbeen,\\nYet the throng at church will miss me as it wanders\\nout and in;\\nIf twere fairies rang this evening ere my spirit\\ntook its flight,\\nMen will know I m dead to-morrow and the curfew\\nring at night.\\nWith the morrow came the maiden asking for her\\naged friend,\\nAnd she found him lying lifeless. Straightway\\nhurrying forth again,\\nShe informed the nearest neighbors, those who\\nlong the man had known,\\nThat betwixt the dark and dawn their aged ringer s\\nsoul had flown.\\nThen in gathered all the people and performed the\\nusual rite\\n16", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0026.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "With that form of kindness fostered where the\\ncurfew rings at night.\\nThen twas asked: Who rang the curfew at sun-\\nset yestere en?\\nAnd the old wife briefly answered: May it not\\nhave fairies been?\\nI know not that any mortal knew my gooodman s\\nstricken state,\\nAnd perhaps twas elves or fairies rang the bell\\nlast eve at eight.\\nThen this woman s idle fancy took the wings of\\ntruth for flight,\\nAnd twas told for fact that fairies rang the curfew\\nyesternight.\\nSome one fond of story telling said that on the\\nivied wall\\nHe had watched the fairies clambering till they\\nreached the belfry tall,\\nThen like bees in swarming clusters on the rope\\nsome hung to pull\\nWhile some scaled the vines of ivy in the moon-\\nlight fair and full\\nAnd sat on the rolling axle as the bell rocked left\\nand right,\\nRinging the evening curfew as it long had done at\\nnight.\\nWhen twas noised thro all the country that the\\ncurfew bell was tolled\\n17", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0027.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "By the tiny hands of fairies for the dying sexton\\nold,\\nThen the old man who, while living, to the world\\nwas scarcely known,\\nHad his name and deeds and sayings, like sweet\\nodors, widely blown;\\nLike the bell he d hung in silence thro the living\\nhours of light\\nAnd was heard of only after came the slumbering\\nhour of night.\\nAh! tis so in every station! After life has fled the\\nframe,\\nMen are prone to laud the fallen and to magnify\\nthe name!\\nAll thro active years unnoticed, many a mortal\\nlowly lives,\\nAnd at last in Nature s order back to God the\\nspirit gives;\\nYet the lowliest dead are noticed if they ve lived\\nat all aright\\nWhen the daylight turns to darkness curfew\\nWILL BE RUNG AT NIGHT.\\n-l877.\\nAUTUMN CONCEIT.\\nWhen Autumn kisses Golden Rod\\nShe coyly hangs her head,\\nWhereat the Sumach is ashamed\\nAnd blushes scarlet-red.\\n18 \u00e2\u0080\u00941888.", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0028.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "i88 5\\nAT LIFE S HIGH NOON.\\nStanding upon the crest of years\\nMeted to mortal man,\\nI see the far off shores that bound\\nThe slopes on either hand.\\nTis life s high noon and o er my head\\nThe sun in splendor shines,\\nMy shadow on life s dial plate\\nHas reached the shortest lines.\\nYonder the sea the sea of Birth\\nWithin whose harbors ride\\nThe barks of men who enter in\\nUpon the rising tide;\\nAnd yon the sea the sea of Death\\nWhence while the waters fall\\nThe barks of men go out again\\nTo come no more at all.\\nI know the eastern slope of life,\\nNow memory s garden green;\\nI see the mileposts I have passed\\nAnd all the way between;\\nBut down the foreway sloping swift\\nToward the Western sea;\\nI know not what of joy or grief\\nMay be in store for me.\\n19", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0029.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "AFTER THE STORM, PEACE.\\nLo! long the East are gathered snow white clouds\\nIn mighty heaps than mountains far more tall,\\nAnd thro them leaps anon the lightning s flash\\nIlluming far and wide this earthly ball.\\nFew hours ago the storm king passed o erhead,\\nFrighting the world with thunders loud and long;\\nAnd gave the earth as precious recompense\\nSwift slanting drops that fell in countless throng.\\nNow night has come and in the zenith high\\nThe radiant moon fair Dian s silvern boat\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nMid fleecy clouds as white as driven snow\\nLike flying barge seems ceaselessly to float.\\nThe air is cooled, and to its softest kiss\\nAs lover fond I bare my blushing cheek,\\nWhile far away my eyes admiring watch\\nThe lightnings leap o er many a snowy peak.\\nGod s peace abides throughout a slumbering world,\\nIn yonder moon that peeps thro clouds apart,\\nAnd in the sense of deep composure sweet\\nThat comes to me: God s peace is in my heart.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00941889.\\nLIFE IS WHAT WE WILL TO MAKE IT.\\nLife is what we will to make it,\\nThere is no such thing as Fate:\\nThere s a Heaven we may forsake it\\nOr go in at the pearly gate.\\n20", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0030.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "AFTER TWENTY YEARS.\\nAft twenty years of life together\\nThro every kind of wind and weather,\\nReturns the day:\\nDearest, I m glad I wooed you then,\\nTurn back the years and I d woo again\\nThe selfsame way.\\nIf fancy in that far beginning\\nPlayed ample part with love in winning\\nOur hearts agree,\\nTo-day I m sure that fancy s naught\\nAnd only truest love is aught\\nTo you and me.\\nTis strange how love two hearts can tether,\\nThen draw those hearts more close together\\nThro fleeting years,\\nUntil at length they beat as one,\\nTheir pulsing tides together run\\nThro smiles and tears.\\nTis strange, and yet there s no denying\\nLove s power to do in souls undying\\nHis wondrous things;\\nLike Death he enters the peasant s hut,\\nNor gainst him can the door be shut\\nIn homes of kings.\\nI pity much that lonely human,\\nI care not whether man or woman,\\nWhom love hath missed;\\n21", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0031.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "Unknown to such the joy that slips\\nFrom soul to soul when lover s lips\\nAre lover-kissed.\\nTwice ten the years of joy and sorrow\\nSince we were wed, and on the morrow\\nReturns the day:\\nDearest, I m glad I wooed you then,\\nTurn back the years and I d woo again\\nThe selfsame way.\\nDecember 26, 1897.\\nABOVE THE MISTS IS SUNLIGHT.\\nBe Not Cast Down. Psalms x-ii.)\\nThe vales down which you journey\\nMay be obscured in mist,\\nWhile all the hills above you\\nBy sunlight sweet are kissed;\\nNot infinite toil would help you\\nScatter those mists away,\\nBut climbing a little higher\\nWill bring you cloudless day.\\nSo when the gloom of sorrow\\nHangs thick about your soul,\\nAnd life s beset with troubles\\nWhich you can not control,\\nWhat use to be dejected?\\nGo up Faith s hills upon\\nAnd there undimmed as ever\\nBehold the Eternal Sun.\\n22 1891", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0032.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "AT A CHURCH WEDDING.\\nGod s house is thronged. The expectant crowd\\nis waiting\\nTo hear the vows of plighted man and maid;\\nTho old the scene, its charm knows no abating\\nAnd pleases yet as when in Eden laid.\\nThe altar wears unwonted wealth of flowers,\\nBefore whose front the surpliced priest appears;\\nThe organ rains its notes in joyful showers\\nAnd the wedding march the hushing audience\\nhears.\\nThro wide-thrown doors at length the ushers enter\\nAnd tread the aisles with steady step and slow;\\nThen come the twain in whom all interests center,\\nWhose lives henceforth as one the world must\\nknow.\\nThe music slumbers, but the hush is broken\\nBy quiet words of priest and groom and bride,\\nAs one by one the marriage vows are spoken\\nThe ring is given and the nuptial knot is tied.\\nThen music wakes and bride and groom go slowly\\nFrom altar front toward the outer door,\\nHenceforth to live in that estate most holy\\nOrdained of God in sinless days of yore.\\nAnd then the throng makes haste to follow after,\\nCrowding the doors now full wide open flung,\\nAnd everywhere is heard the sound of laughter\\nWhile merry peals from wedding bells are rung.\\nJanuary 16, 1897. 2 3", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0033.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "COEQUAL MATES.\\nAt the last of those long epochs\\nWhen the Cosmos was create\\nGod the Maker pitying Adam\\nIn his lordly lone estate,\\nGave him Eve, the first of women,\\nMade his latest gift the best,\\nEre he entered on the sabbath\\nOf his uncreating rest.\\nAdam was the lord appointed\\nOver every brute and tree,\\nBut the Lord gave Eve to Adam\\nHis coequal mate to be.\\nHe was king, by Heaven empowered,\\nOver all on sea or land;\\nShe was queen and her dominion\\nWas as wide as his command.\\nHe the stronger, she the weaker,\\nIn the outer make and mold;\\nHe the coarser, she the finer,\\nIn the spirit s inner fold;\\nHe excelled where brawn was needed,\\nShe in tenderness prevailed,\\nBut they both bore equal courage\\nAnd in wisdom neither failed.\\nEach one had appointed duties,\\nServed an equal part in life:\\nEach was to the other lover\\nHe the husband, she the wife;\\n24", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0034.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "He the father, she the mother,\\nBoth by family cares were tried,\\nBoth the burden bore of sorrow\\nWhen their murdered Abel died.\\nTheir dominions they transmitted\\nTo the coming tribes of men,\\nAnd today the world should show us\\nTheir coequal lives as then.\\nMan should be the lover, husband,\\nFeather, son and kindly brother;\\nWoman be the sister, daughter,\\nSweetheart, wife and patient mother.\\nAll of Adam s sons should cherish\\nAll the daughters Eve hath borne\\nAs coequals and companions\\nTheir eternal liege-lords sworn;\\nThen the lost estate of Eden\\nWould return in beauty bright,\\nAnd the world would once more revel\\nIn the old Edenic light.\\n-1897.\\nAS MAN WILLS.\\nFrom a block of marble comes an angel or devi]\\nBorn of the sculptor s skill\\nAnd so from a man comes an angel or devil\\nJust as the man may will.\\n25", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0035.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "CRADLE SONG.\\nSleep, baby, sleep!\\nUpon thy mother s breast\\nWhere thou art cradled best\\nLie still and be at rest\\nSleep, baby, sleep.\\nSleep, baby, sleep!\\nWhile mother rocks and sings\\nFold up thy restless wings\\nAnd take the gift she brings\\nSleep, baby, sleep.\\nSleep, baby, sleep!\\nThy mother s arms are strong,\\nAnd mid life s busy throng\\nShe ll fend thee from all wrong\\nSleep, baby, sleep.\\nSleep, baby, sleep!\\nThine eyes are closed at last\\nAnd all thy woes are past;\\nMother will hold thee fast\\nSleep, baby, sleep.\\n1892.\\nAN AUTOGRAPH.\\nIn the emerald fields of memory,\\nWhere no winters ever be,\\nPlant the sweetest flower thou knowest\\nAnd cherish it for me.\\n26 \u00e2\u0080\u00941884.", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0036.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "THE CLOCK S MONITIONS.\\nI hear the beat of a restless heart\\nWhich day and night keeps going,\\nAnd hour by hour its wondrous power\\nCompels a voice from the upper tower\\nTo tell how time is flowing.\\nJust now it sounded the hour of nine,\\nThro the starlit silence calling,\\nThe cares of day have been laid away\\nAnd white robed forms have kneeled to pray\\nAnd now to sleep are falling.\\nBut ere I sleep I fain would write\\nWhat thoughts that heart is telling\\nAs to and fro, now high, now low,\\nIt ceases not to come and go\\nTime s death forever knelling.\\nTis strange the heart of a senseless thing\\nShould set my brain to thinking,\\nAnd by its beat rouse memories sweet\\nAnd send my soul on fancy s feet\\nStrange thoughts in order linking.\\nThat restless heart one solemn truth\\nFrom nature keeps repeating:\\nHere is no stay by night or day\\nIn one brief hour of time we say\\nOur farewell and our greeting.\\n1888.\\n27", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0037.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "COME YE BLESSED. 7\\n(Written the day after the death of Frances E. Willard.)\\nCome ye blessed of my Father hark! the\\nheavenly herald calls\\nFrom the battlements of heaven, standing on the\\nouter walls;\\nEvery day the angel calleth every hour the\\ntrumpet sounds\\nAnd the summons flies insistent unto Earth s re-\\nmotest bounds.\\nCome ye blessed of my Father station stayeth\\nnot, nor age,\\nHis are all the pure in spirit prince and peasant,\\nserf and sage,\\nPrattling infant in the cradle, silent sovereign on\\nthe throne,\\nEach alike obeys the summons when the angel s\\ntrump is blown.\\nCome ye blessed of my Father yester came\\nthe mighty call\\nFrom the angel who is herald standing on the outer\\nwall\\nAll the battlements were crowded where the\\nheavenly herald stood:\\nThey were gathered there to welcome one of\\nearth s supremely good.\\n28", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0038.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "Come ye blessed of my Father they were look-\\ning forth intent\\nAs the children do at evening when the busy day\\nis spent,\\nWho are waiting for the coming of a soul to them\\nakin\\nThat has spent the day in serving and at night is\\nCome ye blessed of my Father Frances Willard\\nheard the call\\nAnd her saintly spirit hastened to her kindred on\\nthe wall;\\nDown the distance they beheld her coming thro\\nthe twilight space\\nAll the joy of homeward going written plainly on\\nher face.\\nCome ye blessed of my Father O the greeting\\nthat they gave\\nWhen she entered thro the portals and stood on\\nthe golden pave!\\nSaints and angels gathered round her, and her\\nElder Brother smiled\\nWhile the Father stooped and kissed her, saying\\nWelcome home, my child.\\nFebruary 19, 1898.\\n29", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0039.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "CROSSING THE BAR.\\nWhere meet the floods of sea and river\\nAlong the ocean s strand,\\nThe sailor finds a hindrance ever\\nAn unseen bar of sand.\\nThe river bears its burden seaward, the ocean\\nflings it back,\\nAnd so a bar is builded ever across the river s track.\\nAye, builded once tis builded ever,\\nUnceasing night and day,\\nThis bar between the sea and river\\nThe threshold of the bay;\\nThere low it lieth neath the waters, concealed\\nfrom sun and star,\\nAnd only the pilot born beside it can surely cross\\nthe bar.\\nInside that bar the tempest dieth\\nAnd men may calmly sleep,\\nBeyond the bar forever lieth\\nThe great unmeasured deep.\\nOn either side that hidden barrier betwixt the land\\nand sea\\nThe bark that beareth precious burden from peril\\nmay be free.\\nBut never a tireless ocean rover,\\nSailing toward the land,\\nAttempts to cross that barrier over\\nWithout a pilot s hand;\\n30", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0040.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "And never a ship sails down the harbor going to\\nclimes afar\\nWithout the hand of a trusty pilot to guide It over\\nthe bar.\\nAh! many a vessel wrecked and broken,\\nIts crew and cargo lost,\\nAlong the bar gives silent token\\nWhat recklessness hath cost.\\nProud souls in their own powers trusting no pilot s\\ncunning sought,\\nAnd lo! the ribs of wreck discover what fate their\\nfolly wrought.\\nLo! there s a bar of another order\\nBut the semblance is complete,\\nWhich hidden lies along the border\\nWhere youth and manhood meet:\\nInside the bar is childhood s harbor, beyond it\\nmanhood s sea,\\nAnd at the hidden bar between them the direst\\nperils be.\\nThis bar is strewn with vessels human\\nWho would no pilot brook,\\nAnd many a man and many a woman\\nAll hope just here forsook.\\nIf ever a pilot s hand is needed to make this life\\ncomplete,\\nTis at the bar which all must traverse where youth\\nand manhood meet.\\n1894.\\n3i", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0041.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "DEAD LEAVES IN THE WIND.\\nI saw dead leaves one day scurrying before the\\nblast,\\nRustling around my feet and swiftly hurrying past.\\nFew days agone they d hung high on the forest\\ntrees\\nDrinking the sunshine in and laughing in the\\nbreeze;\\nThey d hung a living host as countless as the stars\\nOr as the grains of sand along the ocean bars,\\nAnd every single leaf in all that countless host\\nWas doing its wonted work at its appointed post.\\nAlas! how glory fades! The frost king came by\\nnight\\nAnd smote that leafy host with all his cruel might.\\nWhen noonday came again the carnage was wide-\\nspread\\nAnd leaf on leaf the ground was covered with the\\ndead;\\nTheir faded banners torn and trailing in the dust\\nWere made the merry sport of every passing gust,\\nAnd neath the barren trees which yesterday they\\ncrowned\\nThe wanton winds took hold and whirled them\\nround and round.\\nAs they went scurrying on those leaves before\\nthe blast\\nRustling around my feet and swiftly hurrying past,\\n32", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0042.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "I thought of frightened birds whose wings are\\nwounded sore\\nFleeing in broken flight some dreadful foe before;\\nFor wounded birds some sense of sympathy would\\nstart,\\nAnd I perchance would weep, aye, heart would\\nbeat with heart,\\nBut for those fallen leaves all withered, dead and\\ndry,\\nI had no tears to shed, I did not even sigh.\\n1804.\\nEVERY LITTLE HELPS.\\nOne little beam of sunshine\\nCrept thro a lattice closed\\nAnd fell upon a cushion\\nOn which a babe reposed;\\nThe child on waking saw it\\nAnd laughed in merry mood:\\nAnd so a beam of sunshine\\nAccomplished something good.\\n187;\\nFAITH.\\nThere s many a soul goes over the billowy sea\\nAnd knows no more of him that guides the ship\\nThe pilot at the wheel than do we all\\nOf Him who steers the bark of life across\\nThe stormy gulf of time; yet there is One\\nWith watchful eye somewhere at the helm.\\n33", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0043.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "ILLUSTRIOUS LIVES.\\nA young oak grew at the rugged roots\\nOf a cluster of mighty trees,\\nWhose crowns majestic stood aloft\\nAnd caught the evening breeze.\\nIt stood and gazed this tender oak\\nWhich grew at the rugged roots\\nIt stood and gazed at their lofty crowns\\nWhich bore abundant fruits.\\nI wish I wish, the young oak said,\\nThat I was tall as these,\\nSo I might bear abundant fruit\\nAnd catch the evening breeze.\\nAnd then the giant oaks that stood,\\nTheir boughs with fruitage hung,\\nLooked down upon the tender oak\\nGrowing their feet among,\\nAnd kindly whispered: We as thou\\nWere once as small and tender,\\nAnd these old trunks so thick and stout\\nWere once as weak and slender;\\nTwas only after many a year\\nOf growth of branch and root,\\nThat we attained the honor large\\nTo bear abundant fruit.\\n34", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0044.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "Be patient, child; tis Nature s law\\nThat we grow old and die,\\nBut thou wilt rear in time thy head\\nAs near the vaulted sky;\\nAnd on thy crown as on ours now,\\nShall hang abundant fruit,\\nThy leaves shall rustle in the breeze\\nWhen we lie low and mute.\\nSo spake the mighty oaks and ceased,\\nWhereat the young oak smiled\\nAnd said: If all they say be true,\\nI ll be a patient child;\\nWith highest aim I ll look aloft\\nAnd woo the air and sun,\\nNor will I be content to rest\\nTill place that s best is won.\\n1887.\\nAN EXHORTATION.\\nLive for the future that lieth before thee,\\nLive to bring honor to the mother who bore thee,\\nLive to win heaven bending high o er thee.\\nHe is most noble who in life just beginning\\nTurns head unto wisdom and heart unto winning\\nHeaven where biddeth neither sorrow nor sinning.\\nUp; while the day is before thee be doing!\\nHasten; the peace of high heaven be wooing!\\nSpend not the future the bygone in rueing.\\n35", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0045.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "GAFFER.\\nSeeing the sky at sunrise red\\nAn old man shook his hoary head\\nI fear a storm today, he said.\\nAll day a hush hung over earth,\\nThe birds forebore their songs of mirth;\\nOf sound and song there reigned a dearth.\\nThe night drew on, and as it came\\nSo faded out the western flame\\nAs fades life s flush from a dying frame.\\nThe old man sat the flue hard by\\nAnd watched the fire. A sudden sigh\\nOf wind came, weak as an infant s cry.\\nDidst hear it, dame, didst hear the wail,\\nThe first low cry of the coming gale?\\nA storm is born, by the Holy Grail!\\nThe sire arose and from the door\\nLooked out toward the ocean shore\\nWhence came a ceaseless sullen roar.\\nThe sky o er head was clear, tho dim,\\nBut on the sunset s purple rim\\nStood clouds like mountains dark and grim.\\nThe awful stillness that awhile\\nHad held the world in durance vile\\nWas flown before that frowning pile.\\n36", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0046.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "The wind that came along the lea\\nFrom o er the face of the deep wide sea\\nTickled the child at the old man s knee.\\nTickled the child because the air\\nBrought coolness to her cheeks so fair\\nAnd ran its fingers thro her hair.\\nBut the old man groaned and heaved a sigh\\nHearing the wind s low ominous cry\\nAs thro the house it hurried by.\\nHe d heard that sound full many a time\\nAnd knew twas more than a merry chime\\nAs full of joy as a festal rhyme.\\nHe knew twas stern as pledges said\\nBy living souls around the bed\\nOf one about to join the dead.\\nThe rising wind s subdued refrain\\nForetold the storm king s fearful reign\\nAnd ruin wrought on land and main.\\nNow and again a fitful flush\\nWould over the rugged cloud peaks rush\\nAs over a maiden s cheek a blush.\\nO Gaffer, the grandchild sweetly said,\\nAs back she tossed her curly head,\\nI know what makes the clouds flash red.\\nThe angels have their homes inside\\nAnd light their lamps at eventide\\nAs we do here where we abide.\\n37", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0047.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "And when an angel opens his door,\\nHis lamp light flashes out before\\nAnd makes the clouds look red all o er.\\nThe Gaffer smiled and placed his hand\\nOn the curly head that so simply planned\\nReason for what men scarce understand.\\nSoon turning back he closed the door,\\nSat in his chair the fire before\\nAnd told his grandchild s sayings o er.\\nAnd then he spoke of the signs without,\\nHow ominous blew the wihds about\\nAnd said there d be a storm no doubt.\\nAn hour passed on, and in its flight\\nCame round the usual things of night:\\nSeason of prayer and robes of white.\\nThe gray haired sire his Bible spread\\nAnd from it as his wont was read\\nOf things the Master did and said.\\nThen kneeling with his family small\\nHe offered up his human call\\nTo Him who ruleth over all.\\nAt first he prayed in feeble tone;\\nBut with the night wind s rising moan\\nGrew more impassioned still his own,\\nTill it was anxious as the wail\\nIntoned without by the growing gale\\nSo danger fraught to ship and sail.\\n38", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0048.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "One moment seemed the wind to cease:\\nAmid the calm he asked God s peace,\\nAnd all arose from off their knees.\\nAfter awhile the child was led\\nEnrobed in white to her little bed\\nAfter her childish prayer she d said.\\nBut unto them, the older grown,\\nCame slumber not; they heard the moan\\nOf w r inds around them fiercely blown.\\nThey sat in silence an hour through\\nWhile wailed the winds within the fine\\nThat made them wail in spirit, too.\\nAnd then again across the floor\\nThe old man went and oped the door\\nLooking toward the ocean shore.\\nNo child now stands beside his knee,\\nBut on his arm stands leaning she\\nWhose love was his while life should be.\\nGood dame, he said, the wind is wild,\\nAnd the lightning plays in fitful style\\nAs o er a madman s face a smile.\\nI fear some ship from out this night\\nWill never more behold the light\\nOr sail thro waters capped with white.\\nHark! hear you how the billows roar\\nBreaking along the beetling shore\\nHow often we ve heard them thus before!\\n39", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0049.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "The frowning heavens seem wildly rife\\nWith fiercest elemental strife\\nAs if they meant war to the knife.\\nThey do, good wife, you may depend:\\nSailors a fearful night will spend\\nAnd some will never return again.\\nCome in Come in that lurid gleam\\nBedazzles me! How shrilly scream\\nThe winds that round about us teem!\\nThey closed the door and barred it fast,\\nThen sat and talked of the varied past\\nUntil the storm had ceased at last.\\nThen unto rest they stole away\\nTo slumber till the light of day\\nThe old man and his good wife gray.\\n876.\\nCONSTANCY\u00e2\u0080\u0094 AN AUTOGRAPH.\\nBeautiful snowflakes fill the air,\\nThen fall and melt in the river;\\nBut moon and star in the sky afar\\nAnd the blazing sun in his golden car\\nShine on the same forever.\\nBe not, good friend, like snowflakes frail\\nThat fall and melt in the river,\\nBut like the stars that never pale\\nAnd the sun and moon, until the wail\\nOf earth shall cease forever.\\n40 \u00e2\u0080\u00941882.", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0050.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "DYING CHILD.\\nSad and lonely in her cottage when the day was\\ncold and drear\\nAnd the sky was so beclouded that no sunshine\\ncould appear,\\nSat a woman busy only in the chambers of her mind,\\nFor she had no strong companion she could talk\\nwith, speaking kind.\\nO erspreading all her features was a look of deep\\ndespair\\nAnd her forehead full was furrowed with the marks\\nof carking care;\\nBut her eyes so dark and weary were not wet with\\nbriny tears\\nAs she sat there sad and lonely mid the silence\\nand her fears.\\nMother! says a voice so faintly that it scarce had\\nreached another\\nThan the ear of loving woman, of a listening, loving\\nmother,\\nAnd a little form was stirring and a little hand was\\nseen\\nOn the covering thin and ragged of a couch\\nappareled mean.\\nSwiftly as a woman ever, when the call of love is\\nmade,\\nGoes to answer, so she hasted; and her hand was\\ngently laid\\n4i", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0051.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "On the pale brow of her darling, while that tender\\nlook of love\\nWhich can come from woman only bent his wasted\\nform above.\\nMother, lift me up and let me see the sunshine,\\nwhispered he,\\nAs he tried her neck to circle as in days that used\\nto be;\\nBut she said, There is no sunshine, with a bitter\\nsob of pain\\nKiss me, then, he said, and call me when the\\nsunlight comes again.\\nThen upon his pallid forehead lovingly she pressed\\na kiss,\\nAnd she knew her child was going soon to other\\nworld than this,\\nAnd her only source of solace, (for she had no\\nearthly friend,)\\nWas to pray that she might follow where all pain\\nand parting end.\\nDown she sat again to ponder and to whisper with\\nher thoughts,\\nWhile the sums of things she added made but\\nround and worthless naughts;\\nAnd the day so cold and cheerless changed to\\ndoubly cheerless night,\\nWhile the things then seen but faintly now went\\nwholly out of sight.\\n42", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0052.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "While in darkness sat she thinking, loud her boy\\nin rapture cried:\\nMother! Mother! see the sunlight! Then she\\nhurried to his side,\\nSaying No, not here is sunlight\u00e2\u0080\u0094 all is darkness\\nin this place,\\nBut the child persisted saying: fit is shining in my\\nface.\\nYou are dreaming, then she told him, but the\\nchild that clasped her hand\\nWhispered, O how sweet the music, and the sun\\nhow bright and grand!\\nNo, tis dark, tis night, she faltered, but her\\ndarling did not hear\\nFor his soul had gone forever where the skies are\\nalways clear.\\nBy the margin of the river that we call the stream\\nof death\\nHe had seen the light he spoke of with his very\\nlatest breath,\\nLight that streamed beneath the curtains which\\nthe angels raised for room\\nWhere the little one could enter when he reached\\nthe heavenly home.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u0094Yale College, May 13, 1876.\\n43", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0053.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "GEORGE WASHINGTON.\\nAs long as the stars shall glitter in heaven,\\nAs long as the cloud and sunshine are given.\\nAs long as the bow shall stand in its beauty\\nAnd serve as a sentinel doing his duty,\\nTo silently tell to the children of men\\nThat danger from deluge can come not again,\\nSo long in the earth shall thy memory abide,\\nSo long shall thy name be remembered with pride,\\nO thou who art foremost of glory s great ones\\nThou grandest and best of Columbia s sons\\nGeorge Washington.\\nStrong men are inspired at mention of thee\\nTo do and to die, if necessity be,\\nFor all that is holy, for all that is just,\\nFor liberty s heritage left to their trust;\\nAnd children are filled with as noble desires\\nAs those that inspirit the souls of their sires,\\nWhen mention is made or in story or song\\nOf all that thou didst in the battle with wrong,\\nThou manliest man, thou God-given chief,\\nFreedom s evangel to a nation in grief,\\nGeorge Washington. 1889.\\nAFTER.\\nAfter the sunset, darkness;\\nAfter the dawning, day;\\nAfter the earthlife, Heaven\\nWin it while you may.\\n44 -1883.", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0054.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "IN THE CHAPEL CHOIR.\\nI sat today in the chapel choir\\nMy long accustomed place\\nAnd sang as is my wont to sing\\nOf Christ s redeeming grace,\\nAnd in the space that spread before\\nWas many an upturned face.\\nThro all the throng I looked in vain\\nFor wonted votaries there,\\nNor could I catch their voices strong\\nIn each familiar air;\\nI looked in vain through all the kirk\\nFor one face heavenly fair.\\nFull many a Sabbath day serene\\nUp there in the choir loft,\\nI d watched the worshippers come in\\nWith footfall sounding soft\\nAs if they trod the tufted turf\\nOf some adjoining croft.\\nMeseems a kirk s a harbor locked\\nAgainst a restless sea\\nWhile all the days are going by\\nThat twixt the Sabbaths be\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nThe restless sea of human life\\nThat floweth ceaselessly.\\nBut when the hallowed seventh day\\nOn peaceful Nature smiles,\\nThe kirk s unlocked, and tides of men\\n45", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0055.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "Flow mong the quiet aisles\\nAnd fill the pews, while music sweet\\nThe tired soul beguiles.\\nThe tides flow in the tides flow out\\nAnd voyagers come and go,\\nAs freighted barks pass out and in\\nWhere ocean s waters flow;\\n(The kirk is free from wrecking storm\\nAnd treacherous undertow.)\\nAnd so today from the choir loft\\nI saw the gates thrown wide,\\nAnd thro those gates in quest of peace\\nCame in the tired tide\\nOf human life which all the week\\nHad washed their seaward side.\\nI scanned the throng, but all in vain,\\nFor one familiar face\\nWhose wont had been on Sabbath days\\nTo seek the sacred place;\\nAlas! we may not meet again\\nThis side the throne of Grace.\\nMyself shall come and join the throng\\nOn Sabbath days to be,\\nBut in the throng that sits before\\nOne face I ll never see\\nHer face shall never turn again\\nThose gladsome eyes on me.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00941888.\\n46", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0056.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "SLEEP AND DEATH.\\nDid you ever wonder, wand ring on the border\\nland of sleep:\\nWherein differs this from dying and a venture on\\nthe deep,\\nOn the deep of that eternal, that supernal after-life\\nWhere the frame is free from aching and the spirit\\nfree from strife?\\nI have wondered under cover of the hovering wings\\nof sleep\\nWhile the slothful feet of slumber o er my lids\\nbegan to creep:\\nIn what mode or manner differs the descent to\\ntransient peace\\nFrom the dreaded hour of dying and the spirit s\\nlong release\\nNow I fold the covers o er me and in peace go\\ndown to dreams\\nWith as much of fearless pleasure as a swan to\\nsummer streams,\\nNot a moment do I falter, for I know I go to rest\\nWhere the body is unburdened and the weary\\nspirit blest.\\nAnd I know that when I waken I am never changed\\nat all\\nBut am just the same in seeming as when into\\nsleep I fall;\\n47", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0057.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "So I draw the stern conclusion that, when Judgment\\nmorn shall break,\\nAs I was before I slumbered in that likeness I\\nshall wake.\\nNow I fall asleep to waken in a little while again\\nUnto other peeps of pleasure unto other pangs of\\npain;\\nThen my slumber will be longer, yea, thro ages\\nlong shall last\\nAnd will break to pain or pleasure in the eons\\novervast.\\nIf I do not dread this passing from my wakeful\\nhours of sense\\nInto inattentive slumber, but with pleasure hurry\\nhence,\\nWhy should I with shudders tremble e en to pass\\nfrom time and pain\\nTo the sleep from which as mortal I shall never\\nwake again?\\nYale College, 1S75.\\nLOOK UP.\\nLook up, not down. The sun o erhead\\nHangs high in God s blue heaven and burns\\nWith constant fire thro all the years:\\nAround us here are flowers and tears\\nAnd crumbling bones and burial urns\\nThings earthly hang on slender threads.\\n48", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0058.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "IN MEMORIAM.\\n(Sophie Barre Irwin,)\\nMy deathless self was yester filled with pain\\nBy saddening news:\\nAs one is numbed by fall of wintry rain\\nSo I was chilled and I could not restrain\\nMy eyelid s dews.\\nThe tide of years the tireless tide of years\\nTurned back apace,\\nTill I was past all present hopes and fears\\nAnd looked again, tho dimly thro my tears,\\nOn one sweet face.\\nA fair young girl whose presence made rne glad\\nBefore me stood,\\nAnd learned with joy whate er her teacher had\\nOf goodly store that strength and grace would add\\nTo womanhood.\\nI prized her then, as faithful teacher ought\\nHis pupil prize,\\nAnd often when with care those days were fraught\\nThe sunshine of her happy face she brought\\nAnd cleared my skies.\\nWhen one has found a prize of precious kind\\nHe holds it dear;\\nTho he may other precious treasures find,\\nThat prize to lose he s less and less resigned\\nEach added year.\\n49", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0059.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "Then if some day should come the news of theft\\nBeyond restore,\\nWould it be strange that he should feel bereft\\nAnd with his heart by sorrow s arrows cleft\\nHis tears outpour?\\nFew were the words that caused my spirit pain\\nWhen they were read,\\nFew were the words that fell like wintry rain\\nAnd chilled me thro and thro these words of bane\\nWere: Sophie s dead.\\nHad sudden shock of swift electric fire\\nThat moment been\\nAnd touched my frame with hot and vengeful ire,\\nIt had not brought me pang of pain more dire\\nThan thrilled me then.\\nToday I mourn for her, But not as those\\nWho have no hope;\\nHer sainted face the future shall disclose\\nAnd I shall find her, gracing like a rose,\\nThe heavenly slope.\\nOctober 27, 1893.\\nTHE INSISTENCY OF SONG.\\nOnce in the night I heard a wild bird singing\\nA snatch of its daylight song\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nA little burst that tunefully came ringing\\nNight s corridors along.\\n50", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0060.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "From out the silence deeply pre-existing\\nThat wild bird s sudden note\\nA brief sweet song forevermore insisting\\nMy sense of hearing smote.\\nTwas hushed apace. As swift as it had risen\\nTo charm the ears of men,\\nTwas carcerate in its own little prison,\\nAnd silence reigned again.\\nBut now and then from memory s shades upspring-\\ning,\\nThere comes again to me\\nThe snatch of song I heard the wild bird singing\\nThe bird I could not see.\\nAnd so sometimes amid life s endless duty\\nBeset with shades along,\\nSuddenly there come to charm us with their beauty\\nSnatches of olden song,\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00941889.\\nIT TOUCHED A CHORD.\\nIn the holiest place where the cherubim\\nTheir ceaseless vigils spent\\nIsrael s High Priest but once a year\\nWith fear and trembling went;\\nAnd no one else in that holy place\\nCould set profaning feet\\nHis priest alone to enter there\\nJehovah counted meet.\\n5i", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0061.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "Today I went to the house of God\\nWhere people are wont to meet,\\nBringing their gifts of prayer and praise\\nTo lay at the Master s feet.\\nI heard the prayers the brethren prayed,\\nThe sermon the preacher preached,\\nBut only the song they sang at last\\nMy inmost being reached.\\nThe song they sang was an olden one\\nBoth words and tune were old;\\n(These new-made songs may silver be,\\nBut the olden ones are gold.)\\nIt touched a chord in my inmost self\\nLife s holiest things among,\\nMy mother was wont to sing that song\\nIn the days when I was young.\\nTis strange methinks about this chord\\nIn the inmost souls of men,\\nThat only the faintest touch may wake\\nTo sweetest thrills again;\\nBy day the cadence of a song,\\nBy night the wind s faint moan,\\nAs if by magic may bring back scenes\\nWe d thought forever flown.\\nA tinkling bell or a singing bird,\\nOr an insect on the ground,\\nMay reach the inmost souls of men\\nAnd cause the chord to sound;\\n52", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0062.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "In the crowded mart this chord may thrill\\nAt sound of a stranger s tone,\\nOr in the silence of midnight hours\\nWhen a far off flute is blown.\\nSometimes, alone, a strange sense comes\\nThat naught of earth could bring,\\nThen I have thought this chord was moved\\nBy the rush of an angel s wing;\\nLeastwise the look of a sainted face,\\nThe sound of a silent tongue,\\nWere seen and heard, and the soul was glad\\nIts loved and lost among.\\n1 891\\nIN MEMORY OF\\nAs o er and o er these words I read\\nUpon the moss grown, carven stones\\nThat stood above the crumbled bones,\\nI fell to musing and I said:\\nIn memory of and what is that\\nOf solace or of cheer? whereat\\nResides today one knowing aught\\nThat these low sleepers living wrought?\\nNone to be found? Then why aver\\nThat so and so lies buried here?\\nIf when I die, I have not done\\nSome deeds of good to bear me on\\n53", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0063.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "Adown the years, remembered well\\nBy hearts that joy those deeds to tell.\\nraise not o er my moldering frame\\nA stone to recollect my name.\\nUpon the hearts of living flesh\\nThat thrill with all the thrills I felt\\nWhile in the flesh my spirit dwelt,\\nI d like my memory ever fresh;\\nBut if when I lie down alone\\nNo heart but that of chiseled stone\\nWill cherish me, I d rather fall\\nAnd be forgotten all in alL\\n1 passed along. Another train\\nOf thought went thro my pulsing brain:\\nI ask perhaps too much, too much;\\nNot every one that lives can touch\\nThe desk of Fame and with its pen\\nWrite on the memories of men;\\nMost must be wise nor ask more boon\\nThan memory of a senseless stone.\\nThe sunbeams with a passing gleam\\nCome slanting down in ceaseless stream;\\nOne may be caught by prismal hand\\nAnd live in books in many a land,\\nBut shall the rest, because they fall\\nAnd lose themselves in earth s great pall,\\nRefuse to shine? No; I am wrong\\nI, one poor one of earth s great throng.\\n54", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0064.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "Best fame indeed is that whose chime\\nThrills human hearts o er tide and time,\\nAnd still forever rings out and in\\nThe e er recurring tribes of men,\\nBut than no fame, as millions have\\nThe orphan child the patient slave\\nSure better fame it is to own\\nThe memory of one faithful stone,\\nAnd yet and yet I can not tame\\nA deep, unceasing thirst for fame;\\nI shudder at Oblivion s dream\\nAnd would not cross o er Lethe s stream\\nTo that void realm, but fain would tread\\nIn memory s fields when I am dead;\\nI want the hearts of men to keep\\nMemory of me when laid to sleep.\\nYale College, 1876.\\nJACOB S DREAM.\\n(Genesis xxviii, 12.)\\nA pilgrim fell to dreaming,\\nHe saw a ladder stand,\\nOne end against the heavens,\\nThe other on the land;\\nAnd on that ladder wending\\nThe heavens and earth between,\\nAscending and descending\\nAngelic hosts were seen.\\n55", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0065.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "The pilgrim waked from dreaming:\\nIn awe he looked around,\\nHe d found the gate of heaven\\nAnd slept on sacred ground;\\nTo mark the spot he huilded\\nAn altar at the dawn,\\nThen vowed a vow at Bethel\\nBefore he journeyed on.\\nTho many an age has vanished\\nSince Jacob slept and dreamed,\\nAnd saw this wondrous ladder\\nO er which the angels streamed,\\nYet unto weary pilgrims\\nWho walk the earth today,\\nThe Father sends sweet comfort\\nIn quite the self-same way.\\nThe heavens still are bending,\\nStill earth is sacred ground,\\nGod s saints are still ascending,\\nHis angels coming down;\\nOn land or sea they ever\\nTheir sleepless vigils keep,\\nAnd every place is Bethel\\nWhere God s beloved sleep.\\n56", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0066.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "THE MINSTREL OF THE AIR.\\nThere dwells in air a minstrel rare:\\nNor you nor I have seen him there,\\nYet many a day along the way\\nBoth you and I have heard him play.\\nLike tones of bells in distant dells\\nSometimes his music swoons and swells;\\nSometimes tis more the sullen roar\\nOf ocean on a far off shore.\\nSometimes meseems he almost dreams\\nSo gently forth his music streams;\\nThen waking wide a surging tide\\nGoes roaring round on every side.\\nWhen winds blow chill o er vale and hill\\nHis music soundeth loud and shrill;\\nBut when they blow with warmth aglow\\nHis music then is sweet and low.\\nWhen some soft breeze scarce stirs the trees\\nA hum is heard like swarms of bees;\\nBut when the gale is big with bale,\\nLo! sobbing moan and piercing wail.\\nOft thro the night, when skies are bright,\\nOr when the heavens are hid from sight,\\nO er field and spire he strikes his lyre\\nAnd interludes day s voiceful choir.\\n57", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0067.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "Full many a maid almost afraid\\nHas heard this minstrel s serenade,\\nFrom dark. to dawn thro curtains drawn\\nHas heard him playing on and on.\\nFull many a swain on lonely lane,\\nCatching this minstrel s eerie strain,\\nHas touched his steed to quicker speed\\nAnd hied him home past wood and mead.\\nAnd souls there are neath sun and star\\nWho ve heard this harper from afar,\\nAnd feigned his strains the faint refrains\\nOf music on the heavenly plains.\\nO everywhere this minstrel rare\\nDwells in the viewless clouds of air,\\nAnd many an hour in ceaseless shower\\nHis music falls with mystic power.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00941899.\\nNATURE S WORSHIP.\\nSee! grass and bearded grain heads\\nKeep bowing now and then,\\nAs if they made obeisance\\nAnd raised their heads again.\\nO why this ceaseless service\\nIn Nature everywhere?\\nTis thus the grasses worship\\nThey bow their heads in prayer.\\n58", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0068.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "A MOURNING ROBIN.\\nI hear the plaint of a robin calling\\nThrough all the dreary day;\\nThe air is chill and rain is falling\\nAnd yet that robin keeps a-calling\\nHis loved one gone away.\\nThe nest they built has lost its jewel,\\nThe mother bird is flown;\\nIn broken plaint he makes renewal\\nCalling for her the precious jewel\\nBut yesterday his own.\\nHe calls, but there is no replying\\nO day so damp and chill!\\nUpon the hillside she is lying\\nAnd to his call gives no replying\\nO grave so deep and still!\\nBeside the mother calmly sleeping\\nTwo little darlings bide;\\nGod gave them for her tender keeping\\nAnd all of them are sweetly sleeping,\\nSleeping side by side.\\nHe could have borne the loss serenely\\nOf those two birdlings fair;\\nIt is her loss who was so queenly,\\nWho made his days pass so serenely\\nThat is so hard to bear.\\n59", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0069.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "And so the robin broken-hearted,\\nMid chilling air and rain,\\nKeeps calling, calling his departed,\\nAnd O his call s so broken-hearted,\\nMy heart is filled with pain.\\n-March 18, 1895.\\nNIGHT BRINGETH REST.\\nThe day is gone and night hath robed the world\\nIn sombre garb\\nThro whose dark folds from heavenly heights is\\nhurled\\nThe lightning s barb.\\nThe mighty boom of cloudland guns is heard\\nIn upper air,\\nAnd showers of shot that hurt not beast nor bird\\nFall everywhere.\\nI m all alone. While falls the pattering rain\\nOn turf and dome,\\nI catch besides an old familiar strain\\nOft heard at home.\\nThe cricket s song in endless monotone\\nThro rain and night,\\nLike magic wand recalls the seasons flown\\nWith golden light;\\nAnd friends come back I shall not see again\\nIn fleshly mold,\\nBut here tonight our spirits seem to blend\\nJust as of old.\\n60", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0070.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "Strange power is this, the hours of sunless night\\nSeem to possess:\\nTo bring again the scenes of youth and light\\nOur souls to bless.\\nMy heart is glad, tho all who hold me dear\\nAre far away,\\nSince sunless light has brought me better cheer\\nThan sunlit day.\\nAnd now to rest; mine eyes are heavy grown\\nAnd fain would close:\\nGod grant the peace may always be my own\\nThis night bestows.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00941888.\\nMOTHER LOVE.\\nO love so dear with title clear\\nTo liege of men both far and near,\\nHow can I bring my powers to sing\\nThy praise enough thou heavenly thing!\\nO rich and sweet, O more than meet\\nFor sinners such as give it greet,\\nThis love so pure that comes to cure\\nThe many hurts men must endure.\\nStars, moon and sun may cease to run\\nThe orbits theirs long since begun,\\nBut not till then the sons of men\\nOf mother love shall know the end.\\n1892.\\n61", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0071.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "ODE TO SHAKESPEARE.\\nGreat^Bard of Avon, many the vanished years\\nSince ebbed and flowed thy wondrous tides of\\nsong!\\nWhat countless eyes have shed earth s scalding\\ntears,\\nFeeling again thy soul s hot hate of wrong!\\nWhat timorous hearts have laughed at ghostly\\nfears,\\nCatching the strength that made thy heroes\\nstrong!\\nW r ho taught thee thus to sing such deathless strains\\nWhence came to thee such mighty grasp of\\nthings?\\nWhat height gave view o er such unbounded plains\\nWith all their streams of errant serfs and kings\\nWho led thy feet where fair Apollo reigns\\nThat thou mightest quaff Pieria s fabled springs?\\nWhile bends the sky and burns yon blazing sun,\\nAnd glittering stars bedeck Night s sable brow,\\nWhile sparkling rivers back to oceans run,\\nAnd human hearts to kindred hearts make vow,\\nThy work, great bard, so all superbly done,\\nTo Time s decree the knee shall never bow.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00941899.\\n62", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0072.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "THE PIKERS AT HOME.\\nPikers, all hail! Hail, Pikers at Home!\\nHail the return of our festival day!\\nHail to the watchword we bring as we come:\\nPiker once Piker is Piker for aye!\\nSome of us come from the toil of high noon,\\nOthers have come from the eventide s gloam,\\nAll of us count it both blessing and boon\\nOnce more to meet with the Pikers at Home.\\nMany the lands that are scattered o er earth\\nLustrous as stars that jewel the night,\\nBest of them all is the land of our birth,\\nBright as the sun with Freedom s clear light.\\nClose to the heart of this nation so proud\\nThere is a spot neath heaven s high dome,\\nWhereat tonight is gathered this crowd\\nSeeking good cheer with the Pikers at Home.\\nHere in the days that are vanished away,\\nBraving all dangers our forefathers encamped;\\nHere they came down to the close of their day,\\nLeaving their lives on their children enstamped;\\nLiving they loved and were loved in this place,\\nDying were buried deep down in its loam,\\nOver the limits of time and of space\\nThey are still Pikers, yea, Pikers at Home.\\nFamous the song that was sung of Joe Bowers,\\nLover of Sally and brother of Ike,\\nSong that was sung till this County of ours\\nGrew into statehood, the great State of Pike.\\n63", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0073.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "Since those old days when the promise of gold\\nProved for so many like bubbles of foam,\\nMuch about Pike the world has been told\\nMuch about Pike and the Pikers at Home.\\nGood as the Garden of Eden this state\\nBetter her highways for buggy and bike;\\nAdam and Eve no apple e er ate\\nSuch as are. grown in the orchards of Pike;\\nFinest her cattle, her corn and her wheat\\nSweetest her melon, her peach and her pome\\nNever have people more good things to eat\\nWitness this feast of the Pikers at Home!\\nPikers, all hail! Tis good to be here,\\nHailing each other with heartiest glee!\\nRest is so sweet even once in a year\\nUnder the shade of the old rooftree!\\nFill up your goblets, O brothers, again,\\nPledge one another, wherever you roam,\\nStill to be always the truest of men\\nTrue to old Pike and the Pikers at Home.\\nDecember 16, 1898.\\nLUCK AND PLUCK.\\nWhen we fail, we cry: Misfortune\\nFoils our every forward thrust.\\nWhen we win, we say: We did it\\nThen we give ourselves the credit,\\nAnd our hearts are full of trust.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00941878.\\n64", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0074.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "RESIGNATION.\\nI know not how soon my life shall be ended,\\nI know not what bows against me are bended\\nNor how from death s darts I m thus far defended,\\nI know that death s darts about me are flying\\nFor neighbors and friends about me are dying;\\nI see the new graves where dead ones are lying.\\nI know there s a shaft for me in death s quiver\\nSome day my frail urn that arrow shall shiver\\nAnd leave it in ruins beside the dark river.\\nI dread not the stroke. I make no endeavor\\nTo ward off the blow intended to sever\\nThe bondage of earth and to free me forever.\\nLike eagle encaged I m evermore turning\\nMy eyes to the sun effulgently burning,\\nAnd longing to fly, this meaner life spurning,\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00941889.\\nQUESTIONS FOR THE MATERIALIST.\\nDid the motes that danced in my brain last year\\nTransmit life s unnumbered events?\\nCan inanimate things by chance cohere\\nAnd make animate things with sense?\\nDoes spirit find birth in material springs\\nThat have but a temporal range?\\nIs memory a fruit of corporeal things\\nThat cycle forever in change\\n1883.\\n65", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0075.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "SONG OF THANKSGIVING.\\nThe white moon peeps thro my window blind\\nAs I m sitting alone tonight,\\nO erthinking the years I have left behind\\nAnd the days that have taken flight.\\nMy heart is full of a nameless thrill\\nThat my life has been so sweet,\\nAnd I fain would hurry to Zion s hill\\nTo bow at the Giver s feet.\\nThe year just going has brought me boon\\nAs rich as the years gone by:\\nThe skies w r ere clear at the harvest noon\\nWhen the golden crops were dry;\\nAbundant grain was garnered then\\nFor the wintry days ahead,\\nAnd I thank the Giver of good to men\\nFor supplies of daily bread.\\nNo fell disease with ghastly shrouds\\nHas come in grim disguise;\\nNo war has spread its baleful clouds\\nAthwart my azure skies;\\nBut the dove of peace the white winged dove\\nHas built in my own rooftree,\\nAnd the breezes have floated the banner of love\\nO er all my land and sea.\\nSo now I m singing as best I can\\nMy glad thanksgiving song\\nTo Him who holds me by the hand\\nAnd leads me safe along.\\n66", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0076.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "I am not worthy his smallest gift,\\nYet He gives me large and free,\\nAnd so my song of praise I lift\\nFor His goodness unto me.\\n-1883.\\nTO A YOUNG MAN.\\n(Who left his betrothed at the gate and went to get some cigars.)\\nWhatever test of things accounted best\\nHer life must stand,\\nThose selfsame things, whatever they may be\\nOf self demand.\\nIf that dear girl unspotted from the world\\nMust ever be,\\nThou, too, be clean whatever sullies her\\nWill sully thee.\\nSince she on thee for all the years to be\\nHer life confers\\nHer lips are pure, her very breath is sweet\\nKeep thine as hers.\\nApril 5, 1896.\\nUNDER THE STARS.\\nUnder the stars as they shine tonight\\nIn the wide blue vault above me,\\nIn fancy I hear the angel flight\\nOf dear ones vanished from mortal sight,\\nWho come again in this magic light\\nTo whisper how they love me.\\n67", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0077.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "Under the stars as they- gleam- and glow\\nIn the wide blue vault above me,\\nI can almost see as they come and go\\nAs gently and white as the falling snow,\\nMy loved and lost who have flown below\\nTo whisper how they love me.\\nUnder the stars on their nightly race\\nIn the wide blue vault above me,\\nI almost feel on my upturned face\\nThe kisses my angels delight to trace\\nAs they come tonight from a throne of Grace\\nTo whisper how they love me.\\nUnder the stars on their sentinel beat\\nIn the wide blue vault above me,\\nI feel in my breast as I walk the street\\nA strange deep sense of composure sweet\\nThe sainted make lighter my weary feet\\nAs they whisper how they love me.\\n1886.\\nWESTWARD.\\nAll things have had but one intent\\nFrom far Creation s first event:\\nMan was the end when Time began,\\nAnd Time will end in perfect man.\\nThe dawning of the human race\\nWas in an unknown Orient place;\\nAs goes the day from eastern source,\\nThe race has kept a western course.\\n68", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0078.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "What time approached Redemption s morn\\nAnd Christ in Bethlehem was born,\\nHis star of all the stars the best\\nLed eastern wise men toward the west.\\nGod s angels came from heaven by night,\\nClad in their shining robes of light,\\nAnd over the land of Israel s pride\\nBroke first the gospel s morningtide.\\nThence spreading west to Asia s bound\\nIt crossed the sea and Greece was crowned;\\nIt crossed a farther sea, and Rome\\nBecame the gospel s ancient home.\\nO er towering Alps still spreading west\\nIt made the Gaul and Teuton blest;\\nOnce more it crossed the sea and dwelt\\nAmong the isles of Pict and Celt.\\nWhile centuries fled the gospel s light,\\nBroke through the gloom of sin s long night\\nAnd Hope woke men with her bright smiles\\nFrom Orient lands to British isles.\\nAt length it crossed Atlanta s deep\\nAnd found a western world asleep;\\nToday that world has come to be\\nGod s beacon light on land and sea.\\nHere on this glorious vantage ground\\nIs soon the knell of Time to sound?\\nNo! Earth hath yet a mighty span\\nTo where the gospel day began.\\n69", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0079.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "The East gave us shall we not give\\nTo those who farther westward live?\\nShall we to them the day deny\\nWho in the westward shadows lie\\nThrough all the ages that have flown\\nNo brighter day was ever known\\nThan this to us so all divine\\nYet brighter day than this shall shine.\\nThough Heaven forbid us see that day,\\nForbid it Heaven that we should stay\\nThe onward course of things foresent\\nTo God s one, far, divine event.\\n1899.\\nFROM UNKNOWN TO UNKNOWN.\\nSail on, fair cloud, o er the upper deep and do\\nThy mission well I\\nFrom ocean thou hast come to fall as dew\\nOr gladdening rain, and then return unto\\nThe ocean s swell.\\nSo am I come from God s great unknown sea\\nOn purpose sent;\\nAnd I as thou, O cloud, must faithful be\\nAnd then go down to God s eternity\\nWhen I am spent.\\n70", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0080.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "VICTORIA REGINA.\\nWhile ages roll and men abide,\\nWhile ebbs and flows earth s human tide,\\nWhen history s muse the past shall scan\\nAnd pen the great of every land,\\nAmid them all from earliest born\\nTo him who lives the latest morn,\\nAmong the sovereigns earth has known\\nNo name shall shine above thine own-\\nVictoria,\\nWhilst over Britain thou hast reigned,\\nHow many a realm has waxed and waned!\\nHow many a monarch come and gone,\\nAnd yet, good queen, thou reignest on!\\nWhat folk beneath the sun has seen\\nFor three score years a Christian queen?\\nWhat nation of the world has known\\nA reign so glorious as thine own,\\nVictoria?\\nAnd thou shalt reign. Pale Death may claim\\nThe mortal form that bears thy name,\\nBut that which thou hast earth bequeathed\\nWith fadeless laurels shall be wreathed.\\nAbove the world when thou art dead\\nIn benediction thou shalt spread\\nImmortal hands and men will bow\\nFor blessing then as they do now,\\nVictoria.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00941898.\\n7i", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0081.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "THREE BLUES OF SPRINGTIME.\\nI found today in sunny nooks\\nBlue violets sweet and coy,\\nThe earliest factors of the year\\nTo give the sun employ;\\nThey nodded under sheltered banks\\nAs is their modest way,\\nAnd lent their beauty to the earth\\nThro all the vernal day.\\nAbove them in the barren trees\\nThe blue birds twittered glad,\\nAnd fluttering wooed in tender mood\\nThe mate that must be had;\\nThey first return from southern land\\nAs harbingers of spring,\\nAnd weary hearts grow glad again\\nWhen they begin to sing.\\nAnd higher still the soft blue sky\\nThe azure arch above\\nIs symbol of our Fathers care,\\nHis canopy of love.\\nThis vaulted sky with sunny days\\nThe bluebirds flown from far\\nThe violets, they are tokens all\\nHow wide God s mercies are.\\n1888.\\n72", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0082.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "FOR GREED OF EMPIRE OR OF GOLD.\\nWhere battle s storm had passed with awful sweep,\\nI found a beardless boy among the dead,\\nWith covering none save Heaven s azure deep,\\nAnd only earth as pillow for his head.\\nSometime, somewhere, an inconsiderate lad\\nHeard martial music blown on piper s stem,\\nLooked where men marched in warlike trappings\\nclad,\\nAnd gave his name to be as one of them.\\nHe little thought he signed himself that day\\nTo be henceforth a puppet and a slave,\\nTo hear command and mutely to obey,\\nAnd find his portion in a nameless grave.\\nHere twas this morn upon this gory spot\\nGrim squadrons stood, and he was with the rest\\nDrawn up in line to shoot at and be shot\\nAnd he was shot look how they tore his breast!\\nPoor mangled boy with face upturned and pale,\\nThe things that charmed that day he signed his\\nname\\nWere no defense where fell the iron hail\\nMid war s wild thunder and its withering flame.\\nWhose was the cause that brought him here to die?\\nNot his indeed, nor yet his father s fold;\\nHis blood was shed beneath a foreign sky\\nFor some one s greed of empire or of gold.\\n73", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0083.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "How long, O Lord, wilt Thou withhold Thy hand\\nNor hinder those who send such boys afar\\nTo wreck the peace of some unsinning land\\nAnd risk their lives where war s grim chances are!\\nMay 23, 1900.\\nTHE BULL AND THE BOAR.\\n(A Fable.)\\nLong time two beasts lived neighbors close\\nA bull and a boar,\\nAnd the bull had proved to be bellicose\\nOften and o er.\\nThe bull would come in the boar s sight\\nAnd dare the boar to come and fight;\\nThe boar was simply holding his right\\nAnd nothing more.\\nYears passed and those beasts lived neighbors\\nstill\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nThe bull and the boar;\\nBut the bull desired the boar to kill\\nMore and more.\\nThe bull remembered one time they met\\nWhen the boar s tusk in his side was set\\nAnd the wound then made was tender yet\\nTender and sore.\\nThey eyed each other and stood apart\\nThe bull and the boar,\\nBut neither was willing a war to start\\nThey d warred before.\\n74", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0084.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "The bull he bellowed and shook his head\\nTo scare the boar, but the boar instead\\nCharged on the bull and his tusks ran red\\nWith bullish gore.\\nThe conflict was on it was plain to see\\nAs ne er before;\\nThe bull was as mad as he could be\\nAnd so was the boar.\\nTil get you yet, the bull he cried,\\nTil see if you do, the boar replied,\\nAnd he gave him another dig in the side\\nThat made him roar.\\nThey fought and they fought for many a day,\\nThe bull and the boar,\\nAnd the fight was mostly the boar s way\\nTwelve weeks or more.\\nBut the bull was big and his strength was great\\nAnd his heart was hot with the fire of hate;\\nAt last he fell with all his weight\\nOn the little boar.\\nFair fight let up, onlookers said,\\nLet s peace restore;\\nBut the bull he only shook his head\\nAnd horned some more.\\nBetween the thrusts he madly cried,\\nHe stuck his tushes in my side,\\nBut worse than that he hurt my pride\\nThis little boar.\\n75", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0085.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "And the fight went on to one event\\nTwixt bull and boar,\\nThe boar fought till his strength was spent\\nThen fought no more.\\nThe great big bull at last withdrew\\nAnd all the world went bellowing through:\\nI ve done what I set out to do\\nI ve killed the boar.\\nAnd why, O bull, onlookers asked,\\nDid you kill the boar?\\nAnd then this reason the bull unmasked\\nWith a mighty roar:\\nI killed the boar because his ground,\\nTho small in limits measured round,\\nWas richer than any I had found;\\nAnd when I wanted his wealth to share\\nHe showed his tushes and raised his hair\\nWhich made me mad and then and there\\nI swore, as only a bull can swear,\\nI d kill the boar.\\nMarch 17, 1900.\\nDON T CHEER, BOYS\u00e2\u0080\u0094 THE POOR FEL-\\nLOWS ARE DYING.\\nO long and loud the cannon boomed by Santiago s\\nBay,\\nAnd many a man of war went down that bloody,\\nbloody day.\\n76", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0086.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "From out the bay the Spanish ships ran smoking\\nblack and fast,\\nHojping to scape the frost that blights in battle s\\nwintry blast.\\nThen sailing West each did his best to get beyond\\nthe reach\\nOf the Yankee ships which watched for them off\\nSantiago s beach.\\nBut all too soon the fray began and fiery missiles\\nflew,\\nWhich, falling on those Spanish ships, went pierc-\\ning thro and thro\\nSwift, one by one, those ships gave up the awful\\nrace they ran,\\nThe battle which the Yankees waged, too fierce\\nfor ship and man.\\nFrom stem to stem grim horror reigned mid fire\\nand blood and death,\\nAnd men were dying everywhere by battle s\\nwith ring breath.\\nTwas then the great-souled Phillips stood, his\\nmen in triumph crying,\\nAnd said to them, O boys, don t cheer poor\\nfellows, they are dying!\\n1899.\\n77", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0087.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "WIFE OF BENEDICT ARNOLD.\\n(While a student in Sheffield Scientific School of Yale College in 1875\\nand 1876, I saw the above inscription on a tumbled down tombstone in the\\nold cemetery at New Haven, Conn.)\\nA gravestone lay upon the ground\\nWith weeds and grasses tangled round,\\nAnd when I turned it over and read\\nThis terse inscription there was spread:\\nThe wife of Benedict Arnold.\\nThen was I filled with large surprise,\\nSuch as I could not well disguise,\\nTo find upon a carven stone\\nA tarnished name so widely known\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nThe name of Benedict Arnold.\\nAt once I thought of all the shame\\nThat clings about the traitors name,\\nAnd cried: Why should her ashes share\\nThat which is shameful everywhere\\nThe name of Benedict Arnold?\\nIf she was kind, if she was true,\\nIf christian making small ado,\\nWe can not tell. This silent stone\\nMakes this confession this alone\\nThe wife of Benedict Arnold.\\nThis simple stone about her saith\\nNo name, no date of birth or death;\\nHere is inscribed one single thought\\nIn chiseled letters plainly wrought:\\nThe wife of Benedict Arnold.\\n78", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0088.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "O lasting shame! O deep disgrace!\\nEnough in life s all conscious race!\\nWhy o er her in unconscious sleep,\\nUpon a stone such memory keep:\\nThe wife of Benedict Arnold.\\n1891.\\nWIND AND TIDE.\\nHow the waters quake and quiver\\nOn the breast of lake and river,\\nHow the treetops shake and shiver\\nWhen the breeze begins to blow!\\nHow old ocean groans and grumbles,\\nHow the water moans and mumbles\\nAs o er hindering stones it tumbles\\nWhen the tide begins to flow!\\nWhence the winds that wake the river,\\nCause the lakes to quake and quiver,\\nMake the treetops shake and shiver\\nWhence and whither, do you know?\\nOr the tide that moans and mumbles\\nAs o er hindering stones it tumbles\\nWhile old ocean groans and grumbles,\\nWhy its strange mysterious flow?\\n1885.\\n79", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0089.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "TO THE NORTH WIND.\\nBlow loud, blow long, blow fierce and strong\\nO North wind icy cold!\\nGrasp all that s free, lock land and sea\\nIn thy relentless hold.\\nBring ice, bring snow, bring all thou know\\nOf winter s warlike things,\\nYet by my hearth good Mistress Mirth\\nIn sweet contentment sings.\\nDraw barb, draw blade, draw all that s made\\nTo try the world outside,\\nStrike v/ith thy might, hurt clay and night\\nTill woe the world betide.\\nMake fears, make tears, make ills and cares,\\nSend troubles thick and fast,\\nGood Comfort s here and I ve no fear\\nOf thy cold killing blast.\\n1890.\\nREMEMBER ME.\\nMy memory garden blooms with cherished friends\\nWhose lives inwrought some fragrance into mine;\\nThy life a charm my memory garden lends,\\nAnd I would be among the charms of thine.\\nRemember me. In some fair flowery nook\\nOf memory s garden give a place for me,\\nWhereby flows Friendship s deep perennial brook\\nAnd over which Love sings her song of glee.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00941884.\\n80", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0090.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "NIGHT.\\nO lovely night! How in yon upper blue\\nThe lamps of God do tremble as they stand\\nAs footlights to a stage superbly grand,\\nBut which not yet to sublunary view\\nHas been disclosed! And since to me and you\\nAppear no scenes of that becurtained land,\\nWe ll look on these around on every hand.\\nHow brightly gleam the sparkling gems of dew\\nDepending from a thousand graceful forms!\\nAnd list! there s whispering of the breathing air\\nAs bending low it agitates the charms\\nOf these fair ones! Now all are free from care\\nAnd bide the time: they hold their jeweled arms\\nAnd calmly wait the silence signal there.\\n-Yale, 1875.\\nGOD S WORK AND MAN S.\\nMy random gaze fell on a flying kite.\\nI saw the kite aloft a little pace\\nLeap up and down along its airy race\\nLike wild horse on the plains quick to the right\\nAnd then to the left sheering as if affright.\\nAbove the kite in far off azure space\\nI saw a bird float on with quiet grace\\nAnd pass beyond the limits of my sight.\\nTis ever thus, methought, with human things\\nAnd things of God. Lo! men with puny hands\\nHold fragile frames a little while by strings\\nThat reach but tiny lengths, but God commands\\n81", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0091.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "And living forms unfettered spread their wings\\nAnd range the world o er all its seas and lands.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u0094Yale, 1876.\\nDREAMLAND.\\nI love to roam about the dreamland plains.\\nWhen banks of cloud in golden garb are drest\\nAnd piled at sunset long the distant west,\\nI love to leave the toils of time, the stains\\nOf sin, and all the sublunary pains\\nThat so distract our frames, and go in quest\\nOf peace in happy fields of dreamland rest.\\nI wander up and down meandering lanes\\nAmong the trees and flowers and borders green,\\nAnd feel my hot brow cooled by zephyrs blown\\nFrom sylvan groves with shadows all between;\\nTis then I lose all sense of grief my own\\nAnd dwell at ease mid many a dreamland scene\\nOr worship at some dreamland sovereign s throne.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00941878.\\nTHE HEARSE.\\nWhat coach is that? Behold yon rolling wheels\\nMoving along the stony paved street\\nBehind the tramp of iron-shodden feet\\nWhich ring upon the stones. Whence roll those\\nreels\\nBearing aloft a car with plumes, the seals\\nOf sad intent? Those drapings dark that greet\\nObservant e,yes the trappings all so neat\\n82", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0092.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "What mean they? Ah! I see their meaning steals\\nAcross my brain it is the coach of Death!\\nIt is that car in which we all must ride\\nWhen pale and cold we wear Death s bridal\\nwreath\\nAnd go with him his unconsenting bride;\\nIn it Death takes us to his home beneath\\nThe sod, and there we lie down by his side.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u0094Yale, 1876.\\nTHE GRAVE.\\nAnd what is this this opening in the ground\\nJust newly made? I look around and lo!\\nAn answer comes, the very truth I know.\\nIt is a grave. It is a home low-down\\nWherein shall dwell some one alone. No frown\\nShall ever wrinkle here; no jovial flow\\nOf genial hours; no words of friend or foe,\\nBut only silence. Here of one renown\\nAre all. No proud with haughty mien, no eyes\\nCast down in shame, no good, no youth, no age,\\nNo simple ones to smirk, no overwise\\nTo criticise too harshly. Prince and page,\\nAnd sire and son, and who of time that dies,\\nAll here lie down and cease a puny rage.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u0094Yale, 1876.\\nMY DEATHLESS SELF.\\nI m dying aye, and yet not all I die\\nI recollect the things of long ago.\\n83", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0093.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "In ceaseless current through my body flow\\nThe earthy motes that halt so restlessly\\nUpon the shores of my mortality,\\nAnd then rush back with Nature s undertow\\nTo Nature s deep whose limits none can know:\\nTis thus I m dying aye, yet do not die.\\nThat which dies not, the deathless self of me,\\nUnchanging is. Tis this that hopes and loves\\nAmid all change; tis this by faith can see\\nThe future through; tis this the bygone proves\\nAnd laughs at thoughts of brief mortality;\\nMy deathless self incarnate lives and moves.\\nINTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY.\\nNon omnis moriar good Horace wrote\\nLong, long ago in proud imperial Rome.\\nHe somehow knew that when the end should\\ncome,\\nAnd at his feet the keel of Charon s boat\\nShould grate upon the sands, and then afloat\\nGo back again with him to Hades home,\\nHe somehow knew that o er the Stygian foam\\nHis fame would not be carried. Every note\\nHis mortal sang would pulse in ceaseless beat\\nAlong the shores of time, nor in the rush\\nOf human progress fail. As wine more sweet\\nWith added seasons grows, or as the flush\\nOf morning with the day, so more complete\\nHis fame would grow, sweeter his music s gush.\\n-1883.\\n84", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0094.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "Tin fli an\u00c2\u00a3 flDoobs.\\nPART II.\\nIN LIGHTER VEIN.", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0095.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0096.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "LASSES.\\nToast.\\nLasses, O bless em, ye angels above em!\\nLasses, sweet lasses, I al ays did love em!\\nAl ays with lips was I willing to prove em\\nSyrups or sweethearts.\\nResponse.\\nUpon my word, toastmaster, the theme you ve\\ngiven me\\nAt first glance seems quite easy and charming as\\ncan be,\\nBut when one gets to thinking and lets his fancy\\nplay\\nJust what is meant by lasses tis difficult to say.\\nAt first I thought of lasses a-comin thro the rye,\\nAnd of the kissing laddies who made nobody cry;\\nAnd then I thought of lasses a-comin thro the\\ncane\\nAnd eaten by the laddies until they cried with pain.\\nWhat can be meant by lasses? I queried all\\naround,\\nBut in the varied answers no satisfaction found;\\nOf all the answers given I deem the echo s best:\\nAlas! a lass a lass is I failed to hear the rest.\\n87", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0097.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "Perhaps some one familiar with home s domestic\\nscenes\\nMay think tis plain that lasses just plain molasses\\nmeans,\\nBut surely he s forgotten the Missouri girls we prize\\nAre just as much Mo. lasses as the syrup that he\\nbuys.\\nMethought I heard somebody, bolder than all the\\nrest,\\nA-talkin of lickin lasses and makin that the test;\\nI ll wager a head o cabbage against a mess o\\ngreens,\\nNo teacher here can tell us what lickin lasses\\nmeans.\\nTis true the simplest meaning that easy words\\nconvey\\nShould help the question settle and drive all doubts\\naway,\\nAnd children eating syrup from all restrictions\\nfreed\\nWhy, that is licking lasses, most certainly, indeed.\\nBut stop! when girls are sealing the letters they\\nhave penned\\nAnd placing the postage on em so Uncle Sam will\\nsend,\\nThen whether those girls are happy, or tearful and\\nforlorn,\\nThey all are licking lasses as sure as you are born.\\n88", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0098.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "Again, the most of teachers use switches now and\\nthen\\nTo make indifferent children their business attend;\\nWhenever the girls are punished (I m glad the\\ntimes are few,)\\nThere s nothing else to call it\u00e2\u0080\u0094 that s licking lasses\\ntoo.\\nBut why attempt still further to make this matter\\nplain,\\nSince every step we ve taken has seemed so much\\nin vain?\\nAlas! a lass a lass is the echo answered back,\\nAnd many a lass makes lasses in grammar and in\\nfact.\\nThen let us say, O bless em, ye angels high\\nabove em!\\nAnd thus confess: Sweet lasses, I ve loved, I still\\ndo love em!\\nAnd with these lips as ever I m willing now to\\nprove em\\nSyrups or sweethearts.\\nDecember, 1894.\\nCAIN AND ABEL.\\nWhen Abel was able to bring his sheep\\nAnd Cain his cane did fetch,\\nThen Cain grew mad and raised his cane\\nAnd Abel he beat till Abel was slain\\nAnd was not able to be Abel again,\\nAnd Cain became a wretch.\\n89", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0099.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "THEY VOTED STRAIGHT FOR PIKE.\\nOnce on a time the gods in conclave sat\\nAnd talked about the various lands of earth:\\nBoth pro s and con s were said of this and that\\nSome truly sad and some provoking mirth.\\nAfter awhile to be from all doubts freed\\nSome one proposed a viva voce test,\\nAnd lo! they were unanimously agreed\\nThe U. S. A. of all the lands was best.\\nThen rose a point about its many states:\\nWhich is the first of all its forty odd?\\nAnd, don t you know, they had such warm debates\\nThat never a one in all the crowd did nod.\\nAt length twas moved: Missouri s first of all;\\nTwas seconded and then the ballot spread,\\nAnd when the box was opened not a ball\\nWas black. The ballot s clear, the chairman\\nsaid.\\nThen came the question most momentous yet:\\nMissouri s counties which of them is first?\\nEach god had one on which his heart was set\\nAnd now debate ran fiercer far than erst.\\nEach praised his own, yet very strange to say\\nEach somehow failed to call his county s name,\\nAnd in the East were signs of coming day\\nBefore the crowd to a conclusion came.\\n90", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0100.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "As last resort some one proposed to vote\\nBy written ballot each one to his like;\\nWhen these were read in alphabetic rote,\\nLo! all the gods had voted straight for Pike.\\nJanuary, 1900.\\nCHRISTMAS IN ASHANTEE.\\nA kinky-headed kid whose home is in Ashantee\\nOnce wrote a Christmas letter and sent it on to\\nSanta.\\nNow no one knows exactly where to send to Santa,\\nNor did that kinky kid whose home is in Ashantee.\\nAnd yet he wrote a letter wrote it in Ashantee,\\nThen stuck a cent upon it and sent it on to Santa.\\nIt read about this way, this letter sent to Santa,\\nAnd written by that kid whose home is in Ashantee:\\nTo Santy Claus\\nDear Santy: My home am in Ashantee\\nDe house am sorter holey, de chimbly sorter slanty.\\nA kinky-headed kid, I libs wid my ole Aunty,\\nAn dis am what I wants a B goat an a Banty.\\nI wants de goat to butt, an den I wants de Banty\\nTo strut aroun an crow when Billy butts my Aunty.\\nIt ll be de jollies Christmas I eber had, dear Santy,\\nIf yo will only fotch a B goat an a Banty.\\nYo s truly, Pickaninny,\\nAt Aunty s in Ashantee.\\n9i", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0101.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "Whether the kinky kid whose home is in Ashantee,\\nWho wrote a Christmas letter and sent it on to\\nSanta,\\nReceived the goat or not, or ever got the banty\\nTo strut around and crow while Billy butted Aunty,\\nI m sure I cannot tell.\\nI only know that Santa\\nHas gotten many a letter, written from a shanty\\nWhose roof was none too good and chimney\\nsorter slanty\\nAsking as useless things as\\na B goat and a Banty.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00941898.\\nONCE A PIKER ALWAYS A PIKER.\\nI was born in old Pike County\\nAnd I think there s nothing like er,\\nTho I ve strayed beyond her border\\nYet at heart I m still a Piker.\\nAs a fellow loves his sweetheart\\nCause he can not help but like er,\\nSo a fellow loves Pike County\\nIf he s ever been a Piker.\\nSister, sweetheart, wife or mother\\nO the world has nothing like er!\\nIf you ever see a Pikess\\nYou will want to be a Piker.\\n92", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0102.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "Eastward, westward, north ard, south ard\\nUpward, down ard, nothing like er!\\nPike s the center of creation\\nIn the eyes of every Piker.\\nAll her dead in well, no matter\\nStill believe there s nothing like er;\\nWhen old Gabriel toots his trumpet\\nEvery Piker ll be a Piker.\\nDecember, 1897.\\nKATE AND ESAU.\\nI saw Kate and Esau\\nSitting on a seesaw.\\nAlso I saw Esau\\nKiss Kate upon the seesaw.\\nAnd Kate she saw\\nI saw Esau\\nKiss her upon the seesaw.\\nAnd Esau he saw\\nShe saw I saw\\nHim kiss her upon the seesaw.\\nAnd so I saw\\nAnd Kate she saw\\nAnd Esau he saw\\nAnd therefore we saw\\nHe saw, she saw, I saw\\nThem sitting upon a seesaw and kissing,\\nKate and Esau.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00941898.\\n93", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0103.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "POSSUM HUNTIN\\\\\\nDon yo heah dat ho n a-tootin?\\nDon yo heah dem niggahs hootin?\\nPossum huntin sho as shootin\\nIs I gwine? Sho s yo bo n, sah;\\nTramp de woods until de mo n, sah;\\nMusic in de huntah s ho n, sah!\\nWhat s er possum? Make me grin, sah,\\nAt dem questions! Whar s yo bin, sah?\\nIs yo anybody s kin, sah?\\nShet up niggahs! Dar s ole Bowsah\\nDone a-trailin he s er rousah\\nTrackin possums beats ole Towsah.\\nHow he barkin Bet he s treed im\\nBarks s if he almos seed im\\nLe s go git im niggahs need im.\\nBowsah sets de woods a-hummin\\nLike a pheasan s wing a-drummin\\nTalk to im, fellah, we s a-comin\\nGittin close I heahs im whinin\\ns if he seed dem eyes a-shinin\\nOb dat possum he s bin fin in.\\nDar he am, sah! See dat lump, sah,\\nUp dat simmon bush dat hump, sah?\\nEf he coon, kin make im jump, sah.\\n94", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0104.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "Dat ain t coon, he stick too tightly;\\nCoon jump out ef shake im lightly\\nCoon big eyes dey shine mo brightly.\\nPossum, sho Sambo, I wush yo\\nCome an clime dis simmon bush, sah;\\nGit up quick, I gib yo push, sah.\\nFraid he bite yo Git up, niggah,\\nYo s de littles I se de biggah\\nYo s de quickes on de triggah.\\nSimmons? Dar it am agin, sah!\\nDon know nuffin! Whar s yo bin, sah?\\nIs yo anybody s kin, sah?\\nWhat yo say? de tail won\\\\ loosen?\\nCo se it won t dat s not amusin\\nPossum tail was made fo usin\\nNow yo s got im, sorter slap im\\nTill he ten like he s a-nappin\\nLook out, niggah, don yo drap im!\\nDar, I se got im now le go, sah;\\nGit out, Bowse, don yo know, sah,\\nPossum s ours an not yo s, sah\\nAm he dead? No, sah; he s playin\\ns if he dead, but yo go way an\\nThink im dead an leab im layin\\nBime by de possum grin, sah,\\nAt de way he took yo in, sah,\\nDen skedaddle home agin, sah.\\n95", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0105.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "Is de possum good to eat, sah?\\nJes de fines kine ob meat, sah\\nRoas ed possum ha d to beat, sah.\\nKetch er possum in Octob r\\nSkin or scrape im clean all ob r\\nLike er shote fotch from de clob r,\\nSkin or scrape im till yo white im,\\nHang im whar de moon kin light im,\\nWhar Jac Fros kin come an bite im,\\nDen go git im, fat on simmons,\\nTake im down an let de wimmens\\nRoas im wid sweet tater trimmins,\\nAn I tell yo what s de troof. sah\\nDar ll be dancin neath dat roof, sah\\nEbry niggah shake is hoof, sah.\\nDen yo ll heah de banjo pickin\\nSee de pickaninnies kickin\\nDancin Juba like de dickens.\\nLots o white folks men an wimmens\\nFon o possum fat on simmons,\\nSpecially wid sweet tater trimmin s.\\nRoas ed possum an sweet tater,\\nSkillet lid turned up fo waiter\\nGo way, boss, I see yo later!\\nBut I heahs de roostahs crowin\\nDe s de midnight hour a-showin,\\nToot yo ho n, boys, le s be goin\\n96 \u00e2\u0080\u0094July, 1889.", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0106.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "MINN-IA-MO ARK-LA.\\nMinniamo Arkla is a giant huge and tall\\nWho lies in length twelve hundred miles upon this\\nearthly ball;\\nHe ne er has stood on his one foot one leg and\\nfoot has he\\nAt least as far as I can tell it looks that way to me.\\nMinniamo Arkla this giant would you see?\\nGo hunt up your geography and bring it here to me;\\nNow find the U. S. map and down its middle\\nstretched\\nYou ll find this mighty giant, of which I ve told\\nyou, sketched.\\nMinniamo Arkla is a giant tall and huge,\\nHis cap is marked St. Paul, his slippers Baton\\nRouge\\nHis eye is shut so tight you ll look for it in vain,\\nBut his ear is marked Des Moines and his nose is\\nvery plain.\\nMinniamo Arkla, tho a giant none can mock,\\nWears kneepants and plays marbles in his pock-\\net s a Little Rock;\\nHis coat is tagged Jeff City I don t know bout\\nhis vest\\nBut St. Louis is a diamond jeweling his breast.\\nMinniamo Arkla now don t forget the name\\nThat was his Indian title; but since the Yankees\\ncame,\\n97", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0107.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "They ve turned it and they ve carved it, just as\\nthey would a ham,\\nTill now we know this giant by the name of Uncle\\nSam.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00941894.\\nIN DE CITY OB ST. LOUIS IN 1903.\\nOle oman, listen to me now de chillens all in bed\\nJess listen whiles I tell yo what I hea d de parson\\nsaid,\\nWhat he tole us at de meetin ob de ficial boa d\\ntonight\\nFor de parson reads de papers while he ten s de\\ngospel light.\\nDars gwine to be er circus dat egzactly ain t de\\nname\\nWhat de parson tole de bredren but it means about\\nde same\\nDar s gwine to be er circus an he say its gwine to\\nbe\\nIn de city ob St. Louis in 1903.\\nTwill be de bigges circus dat de worl has eber\\nhad,\\nAn its gwine to be er circus whar dar won t be\\nnothin bad;\\nDe pasture an his people widout breakin ob de\\nrules\\nKin go to see de circus as well as de animules.\\n98", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0108.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "All sexes ob religion de Gentile an de Jew,\\nDe Baptis an de Methodis an de Tiscopalians\\ntoo\\nAll sexes ob religion, he say, was gwine to see\\nDe circus in St. Louis in 1903.\\nDar s gwine to be percessions an de ban s am\\ngwine to play\\nAn de tents will cubber acres dats what de parson\\nsay\\nAn when yo gits yo ticket twill cos yo fifty\\ncents\\nDe ll let yo in for nothin to go thro all dem\\ntents.\\nDar ll be jess scads o goobers an de pinkes\\nlemonade\\nDar ll be fried pies an do nuts de bestes eber\\nmade\\nAn de ll let yo in at mornin to stay all day an see\\nDat circus in St. Louis in 1903.\\nOle oman, yo ought to bin dar to heard im\\nspatiate\\nAbout dis country s glory, an Providence an fate;\\nHe say de Lord was in it when Jeff son took de\\nchance\\nTo purchase Loozyannie f om Bonypart ob France,\\nAn dat de Lord intended f om far creation s\\nbirth\\nTo manifest his glory to all de tribes ob yearth\\nIn de Miss sippi valley de time an place to be\\nIn de city ob St. Louis in 1903.\\n99", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0109.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "To help de Lord to show us de glory dat awaits,\\nDe parson say de Congress ob dese United States\\nWould gib five million dolla s to help de cause\\nalong,\\nAn den de whiles de choir was singin ob er song,\\nDe States an corpyrations would march up to de\\ntable\\nAn plank de se money down as much as de is\\nable\\nNo doubt at all about it dat circus gwine to be\\nIn de city ob St. Lous in 1903.\\nOle oman, we mus see it we sho ly can t afford\\nTo miss dis chance o seem de glory ob de Lord;\\nAltho we s been good Methodis we might back-\\nslide an fall\\nAn not git into heaven to see de Lord at all.\\nSo we mus take de chances dis side de pearly\\ngates\\nDe parson say de railroads will gib excursion rates\\nAn yo an me, ole oman, mus sho ly go to see\\nDat circus in St. Louis in 1903.\\nMarch, 1900.", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0110.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0111.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0112.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0113.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3216", "width": "2068", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0114.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3222", "width": "2078", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0115.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "HP mm\\nH H", "height": "3388", "width": "2294", "jp2-path": "inmanymoods00smit_0116.jp2"}}