Like an old tree uprooted by the wind
And flung down cruelly
With roots bared to the sun and stars
And limp leaves brought to earth —
Torn from its house —
So do I seem to myself
When you have left me.

Tall timber stood here once, hee on a corn belt farm along the Monon.
Here the roots of a half-mile of trees dug their runners deep in the loam for a grip and a hold against wind storms.
Then the axemen came and the chips flew to the zing of steel and handle--the lank railsplitters cut the big ones first, the beeches and the oaks, then the brush.
Dynamite, wagons, and horses took the stumps--the plows sunk their teeth in--now it is first class corn land--omproved property--and the hogs grunt over the fodder crops.

Before you, silently I sway.
I feel so anxious when you’re near me,
In vain, I cast a glance your way:
I’m sure that I will never say,
What I’m imagining so freely.

When troubles arise, my friend, lift thine eyes
To that Being who died on the cross!-
Rest assured of this: the Mansions of Bliss
Ne'er were reached without some seeming loss!

Sing, gentle maid -- reform my breast,
And soften all my care;
Thus may I be some moments blest,
And easy in despair.
The pow'r of Orpheus lives in you;
You can the passions of my soul subdue,
And tame the lions and the tigers there.

Tjen ærlig, vel og tro
Thi Troskab er din Ziir;
Utroskab lønnes jo
Med Pas paa graat Papir.

Efter ærter
Kommer Fj.....,
Det er en naturlig Ting;
Men, naar Ærter
Er fortærte,
Fare de i Doktor Bing.

My sun went down at noon to-day,
O Sorrow!
For in thine eyes
My sun doth rise;
Then, Love, I pray,
Bring back to-day,
Or make it soon to-morrow.

Whatever else I see, I still see thee,
I shut my eyes to see nought else but thee.

ON GIVING A FRIEND A CROSS.


We should each other's crosses help to bear,
Yet I, dear friend, lay this upon your breast:
Would Heaven, indulgent, hear my heartfelt prayer,
No heavier one should ever on it rest.