Poems

BY JENNIE EARNGEY HILL
BOSTON THE GORHAM PRESS MCMXVIII
Copyright, 1918, by Jennie Earngey Hill ——— All Rights Reserved Made in the United States of America ——— The Gorham Press, Boston, U.S.A. TO MY BELOVED AUNT MRS. JENNIE HEWES CALDWELL, Ph.D.



Whispering brooklet running nigh, Do tell why love must die, Brooklet onward toward yon sea, Speak to me! speak to me! Do tell why love must die, Tiny brooklet flowing by. For aye! Oh, tell why!
Brooklet gently gurgling by Must love die e’en for aye, Tell why shouldst love die; Oh, why must love die, Tell why! For aye! For aye!
The above was set to the music “The Brook” by Theodore Lack.
Slipping, sliding, high then low, O’er the ice and fleecy snow, Hearts attune with all around, Merrily away we bound; While jubilant our spirits fling Echoes of their reigning king, Till circling air seems drunken quite, Breathing revelry tonight. Boist’rously we raise good cheer, One in voice and accent clear; As bracing wine such atmosphere, With love like thine, Maiden of the dell, Loud thy praises swell, Life’s rhapsody For me but thee, Thru the livelong day If at work or play.
’Tis living dew thy lips impart, Nectar to a fainting heart; Thine eyes—gems of beauteous hues, Amber mid the blues, Gleam Paradise—’gainst yon sparkling snow, Twinkling as they go; Thy cheeks transmit roseate light, Tint the dancing white, Heart-throb bespeaks Earthly paragon, Binding two in one, In this—our sleighing time, our playing time, Our sleighing, playing, sleighing time.
Moonbeams falling, gently trace Lovers’ secrets on each face, As to and fro they skip—perchance, Lending joy with each fond glance, While slipping, sliding, high then low, O’er the ice and drifting snow, Till circling air seems drunken quite Breathing revelry tonight; Boist’rously we raise good cheer, One in voice and accent clear; As bracing wine such atmosphere With love like thine, Maiden of the dell, Loud thy praises swell, Life’s rhapsody for me but thee, Thru the livelong day If at work or play.