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SPIDER-WEBSVERSEINA COLLECTION OFLYRICS FOR LEISUREMOMENTSSPUN AT IDLE HOURSBYCHARLES WILLIAM WALLACEProfessor of Rhetoric and LiteratureWestern Normal College"Thespider's touch— howexquisitely fine!"—Pope.SfPLINCOLN, NEB.:STATE JOURNAL COMPANY, PRINTERS1892.26189 IhCO ff

Copyright1892BYC.W.WALLACE

TOJUDGET. D.WALLACEANDMRS. OLIVE WALLACE.My Dear Father and Mother:Noword, noact,no consecratedgreat or slight soeveritmaybe,gift ofmine,howcan ever repay thebeneficence and love of you to whom I owe life andwhatever of prosperity has been granted me.As my eyes glance in retrospect along the fading perspective of years and lose themselves in the dim days ofthe cradle, and thence to the present look forwards tothe distant peaks of hope that rise above unknown mistsand shadows and horizons, I hear the counseling wordsof a father, and feel the ever-present touch of a mother'shand, as both guide me with love into the dim unknownof life.Though I pass onwards with a father's Godspeed," and a mother's lingering embrace and lovingkiss, and leave you both fondly looking after me, stillyour presence in my memory is ever a guiding realitythat even now directs this good right hand of mine toinscribe these dedicatory words of filial affection.If in the days agone I ever seemed unheeding of thatcounsel of a father, and unmindful of that dearest loveof a cherished and cherishing mother, I can but say that''

DEDICA TION.ivboth that counsel and that love reach through thosemoulding and shaping years of my life and take hold onmy heart with a firmness and a gentleness that nothingelse of all the years can boast.It is but right and just, therefore, that in these yourlater days I should likewise be your guide and yourthat I should reachstay in so far as my hand may let;outmy strong—young arm and steady thetottering yearsthat throng around you.can afford you even one slight pleasure,It is, therefore, withit is my heart's desire so to do.somewhat more than filial love that I dedicate thislittle volume to you, my Father and my Mother, bothtogether my counselor and guide, still mercifully sparedWithal,ifIyour children and in doing so, I can but express thehope that your years may yet be many and happy thatthe iris struck by a New Sun from the crystals of thew hitened and whitening wintry years may be as full ofbeauty and joy as were the early spring blossoms of loveand hope that you pressed to your bosoms in youth.to;;Your Son,CHARLES.

BY THE WAY.Asthe presentation of these collected verses in theirpresent printed form has been induced largely by therequest ofmanymy former college students and byof my most intimate friends, and asofthe importunitiesvolume has consequently been prepared chiefly fortheir pleasure, it is hoped that those into whose handsthe book may fall are already so well acquainted with theauthor that the selections themselves need no formalintroduction to make them agreeable company and engaging companions.thisIn justice,tains only aIshould here say that this collection con-few outof the vastnumberof good, bad,and indifferent pieces of verse that I have been makingat odd hours of a busy life, ever since my boyhood, formy own pastime, pleasure, and literary and linguisticimprovement, with no thought nor distant dream ofever permitting them thus to invade the domains of thesovereign public.That thelittlebook that thus modestly goes forthwillattain either a large circulation or great popularity Ineither expect, nor attempt to bring about; but thatmen and women with hearts that love and souls thatlook above may find much quiet pleasure and satisfaction in the following pagesIt isneithermyIdo sincerely hope.desire nor befitting tolay claim to any degree ofmyworktoexcellence in the verses

PREFACE.VIQuite to the contrary, I see and regret many defects which I can now neither remove norrepair.But, however defective they may be in formor in spirit, I have ever thought that little else than theherein presented.interpretation of the relations of thehumansoul tolife,here and hereafter, and the presentation of the good,the beautiful, and the true of thehumanheartisworthyof serious effort.Asa consequence,meaningmostof these pieces are dual in—one, in plain view, the reality;the other, lessdistinct, thefiner ideality, the reflection,imagefirst.of theIt is thismeaningsecond, this finer and often, ator mirroredfirst,obscure—myjudgment, is the essential theany poem. Certainly if not thismeaning but the apparent one, the one on the surface,is the basis of judgment on these poems, they will fallfar below the estimate accorded that poetry which isdeemed worthy of existence.I wish here to return my thanks for the hearty reception accorded the few selections of the prospectus, andto express the hope that the completed volume willequal whatever expectations the recipients of the prosthat, inpreservingpectusmaysalt—ofhave.Also, I cannot pass without noting the fact that a largeshare of the first edition of this volume was engagednearly six months beforeitwenteven before Ishould use, and that,to press,had determined what productions Itoo, upon the mere announcement that the publicationwas contemplated for the present summer.Iwish, therefore, thus publicly to thank thosehave givenwhothis substantial earnest of their appreciation.

PREFACE.vilAnyopinion or criticism, favorable or unfavorable,or any suggestion or correction on thought, arrangement, typography, or other point, that the reader mayand encouraged,be most gratefully received and carefully con-to express, is not only invitedseefitbutwillsidered.One word more.If a selection willnot bear a secondreading, or a third, a fourth, or a fiftieth reading;ifif itit does not grow better and better at each readingdoes not lift the soul to a higher plane, a nobler aim, a;purer life, and a grander view; if at each successivereading something does not come out of it and enter theheart, and then pass back into the poem again, and thusagain and again, each beautifying and ennobling theother, like a sunset halo among the clouds and theliquid, translucent image thereof in the mirroring lake,then it is no true poem, and should be cast aside.Themakesreadonly proof of the excellence of apoemisthatitthe heart larger and the soul nobler for havingit,and thatpoem andatthe readerBelieving, asIdo,each successive reading both thegrowbetter and better.that poetryisnothingthe interpretation of the Divine in thelesshuman(whether in the mood of tears or of laughter),Ithanheartcan buthope, in entrusting these " children of the brain " to thecare of others, that in the heart of each little waif somegood may be found, some song may be heard, somebeauty be revealed, some experience beverified.c.Lincoln, 22 June, 1892.w. w.

.CONTENTS.barefoot After the Cows,Beautiful May,Boy Bards,Buzz,. Choral of Sunset, A,Dead Man's Life, The,Death— Life,.Death-Howl, The,.116.-141.i'.Chorus,Close Attachment, A,Come to the Shadows,Common Lot, The,.62.178 .6.52.Browning,.Borrowing Brains,PAGE.126.1217.124.135 .131.Deep unto Deep (Double Threnody),Demoniac, The,Deploration, A,Down.Candy-man's Shop,Dreamy April Evening m the Woods, A,to the.Echo Song, "False.Gift.Womankind,"Family of the Ephemera,Father Time,Freedom's Battle Song,and 2-36.148.1428-71

—CONTENTS.X.PAGEGood-Night (Song),—Gravity Life,Greatest Thing on Earth, The,I. From Sun to Sun,II. What the Striving ?.III.The WorldIV.Hand andToo Much Ours,isHeart,.VI. Immortal and God-given,VII. Asking Hearts,.The CrowningHal a-Huntin',.Halloween,of Yore,.178.182.183.184.186.181.144.179.180.Happy DaysGlory,.-134.V. Courting the Crowd,VIII.68-51.156.66.11.Haunted House, The,.20.Hot?— Well, Rather!Human135Heart, The,Humpty DumptyIdioticChap, A,.Peace Till Next New Year,I Love You, Kate,In the Angels' Keep,I'.se Seen a Light in de Sky,If So,IWonder,.46123.34 .Love (ATriolet),.Madrigal,.Memories of the Past,Mince Pie,Mist- Wing,.-117.156.111.-3359140Lover's Complaint, The,.120.Lone Wayside Wild-Rose, The,Lurlei, The,.52125Life's Philosophy,Lonely!44121Life's Lost Skiff,Life to-58.Just as Usual,Life, .28.14.15

CONTENTS.xiPAGEModern Tragedy Averted, A,'Mong the Mountains of the Soul,.Mortal, A,MyDefeat,.Old Benoni Tree, The,Kingsley's " Farewell,".143. .New EnglandPity the Poor,.Lament,.30,etc.,' . RexFugit,. .Shut In,Shut Your Eyes and GoSickle of Flowers, The,.Sleep (Sonnet),.,250118.40.118-55.,.5.2313.138.,.47. 14.56.119.5871Bouquet,.12442Through Reverent Eyes,Thus Life's Tale,To a Wild-RoseTo Fancy,To Miss147.115.Tears and Laughter,There's a Laugh,This Touch of an Angel's Hand,.150i33. -9.Thought,.Sonnets of Life,Played-Out Ol' Bouquet, A,Soul of My Soul,Sweetest of All, The,Sorto'.to Sleep,.Slumber Rhapsody, A,Song of the Stars,Song on the Sea,.2.150.Poet's Prayer, The,Press of Penury, The,10546.Plucking a Crocus,Our Alma Mater,Part of the-25.Nightmare, The,OnOn.149-55.69.114

CONTENTS.xii.-57.PAGETo Morpheus,To Sleep,To Thee Above,Tough Mutton, Perhaps,Transformation, The,Twenty,49log.Washington,is.114.151.PoetryWheel and.2.105?.?.Weather Fiend, The,What.— A Psychological Mystery,61Ups and Downs,Uselessio8.-76Shuttle,49White-Enthroned Above Me,Whither?.Who Knows?Woodland Lay,Words and Thoughts,Write from the Heart,Year Ago, A,142.129.-59.147131.-117.146137

SPIDER-WEBSVERSEINA CHORAL OF SUNSET.I've a notion the clouds at sunsetSing chorals in the skyAs they let down their billowy tressesAndkissThe sun"Good-bye!"Andthe music comes in at the portalsThat Heaven hasAsleft inthe heart,the shine gets into the flowerWhereHaveApart.slippedthe leaves

:—;:THE POETS PR A VER,THEPOET'S PRAYER.Sweet Zephyr from celestial islesThat all the earth with joy beguiles,I would that thou wouldst blow to me,And blow to me thy purest breathing songI would that thou wouldst come to meAnd tell to me whate'er is right and wrong;I would that thou wouldst lay thy handAnd rest thy hand upon my throbbing brow,And that the words thou giv'st to meAnd tak'st from me would be received as thou.UPS AND DOWNS.The worldcoach and four,as there you find 'emisAnd menlike aFor some must ride and some must driveAnd some hang on behind 'em.Or like the farmer's 'tater cart,The best on top to brag onFor some must rise and some mustLike'taters in thefallwagon.THE OLD BENONI TREE.Brother Grant, do you rememberDays and years we spent togetherThro' the summer's shiny weatherTill apples dropped in late vSeptember?

"—— —THE OLD BENONI TREE.Nurtured where the warm suns shine in,We were dreamers then, my brother,As we Hsped to one another," Ine-een tor-I fert-hi mine-een.Guess you haven't forgotten thatHave you?Imycan shutSee the old tree whereHear the rhythmweyet,eyes andsat yet,of that thing- riseandFall like echoes of the distant brine inSome fair shell and like it clingingTo the past, my heart keeps singing,;" Ine-een tor-I fert-hi mine-een."be plagued if I can tell yetWhat that hitching nonsense jingleMeant, can you? I can smell yet,hear the lingleTho', the blossomsOf the bells of lolling kine inSlaughter's grovesee the pink ofI'll——;;Fruit above us when I think of" Ine-een tor-I fert-hi mine-een."Ican taste those old Benoni——Apples yet (fall apples mellowAs the winds that kissed the bonyBranches into blossom yellowButter-yellow and as fine inTaste as Flemish Beauty pears were)For our burdensomest cares were,—;'Ine-een tor-I fert-hi mine-een."