A DAY IN JUNE.

(To Mercy.)

This is the month of roses, dear, The sweetest time of all the year.

Field, woodland, roadside,--everywhere, Is clad in crimson beauty rare.

The very earth beneath our feet Is covered with their petals sweet; Where'er we go the balmy air Is laden with sweet fragrance rare.

And now and then, dear, we may see The cheerful, busy little bee From out this dainty, crimson flow'r, Sip nectar for his winter store.

The sky is blue, and there and here We see a fleecy cloud appear; Nor tongue nor pen can e'er portray The beauties of this sweet June day.

In mem'ry, dear, it takes me back Along life's sunny backward track Just thirteen years, to a sweet June day And a little cot, not far away, Where roses bloomed, and song of bird Throughout the livelong day was heard; But never was this song so gay As on that blissful, bright June day.

Within that little nut-brown cot, On earth the dearest, sweetest spot, A wee pink flower, both sweet and gay, First opened to the light of day.

As time flew by on fairy wing, This wee pink flower, this dainty thing, Of all our love demanded part, And twined its tendrils 'round each heart.

Sometimes, without, 'twas dark and dreary, But all within this cot was cheery, Because this little floweret gay Chased gloom and shadows all away.

This dainty thing, so dear to me, This little flower I have in thee.

'Neath blue June sky and rainbow shower, Long live earth's purest, sweetest flower.

CHRISTMAS ON THE FARM.

Don't you remember, oh, brother mine!

What fun we had at Christmas-time, Out on the old farm, you and I-- That home we loved in days gone by?

How up in the loft we used to climb For nuts, stored there in autumn-time, To crack and eat by the dear old fire, While the cheerful blaze leaped high'r and high'r?

And when it was time to go to bed, How each tired, sleepy little head Was laid on a pillow, soft and white, To dream of Christmas the livelong night?

And how in the morn, before 'twas light, Our eyes were opened wide and bright, As we ran a race down the high old stair, To see if "Santa" had been there,

And brought his bundle of toys with him, And filled our stockings up to the brim?

But dear old "Santa" would always stop And fill them full to the very top.

Then we'd away to the old hillside, The country shoemaker's cot beside-- Just 'round the corner, near the wood, Where the tall old beech-tree grew and stood.

And the s...o...b..rds hopped on its boughs awry As our brand-new sled went whizzing by; And down to the foot of the hill we'd go, Over the crystal Christmas snow.

Oh, could life's downward journey be As free from care for you and me; Our hearts be filled with the same glad rays Of those olden, golden Christmas days!

When life was so sunny, bright, and new, Oh, brother mine! for me and you.

A happier home none ever had Than ours, holding hearts so light and glad.

But those happy Christmas days of yore To us will come again no more; For she who chased all our care away Sings a Christmas anthem in heaven to-day.

MY LITTLE BROWN-EYED SWEETHEART.

When evening shadows gather round, And work of day is done, When down the west horizon sinks The glorious, golden sun, And sweetly sing the whip-po-wils Ode to the closing day, Back to my home among the hills My visions often stray.

CHORUS:

Tho' time from mem'ry may efface All else that's sweet and tender, Those happy olden, golden days I ever shall remember.

Oh, happy, olden, golden days, Oh, days with sunshine laden, When I wandered o'er those verdant hills With a little brown-eyed maiden.

Where flowers were fair and fields were green, And trees with blossoms lade, 'Twas there I met and loved and wooed A little brown-eyed maid; And oftentimes she'd sing to me Sweetly her Flower Song, As o'er those verdant, flowery hills We gaily strolled along.

CHORUS:

But that was years, long years ago, Yet o'er and o'er again In dreams I'm with my brown-eyed love, And hear that sweet refrain.

Tho' death's cold frost has touched my flower, And bid its life depart, Yet still within my soul doth live My little brown-eyed sweetheart.

CHORUS:

I KNOW TWO EYES.

SONG.

I know two eyes--two jet-black eyes, Yet fond and true and tender.

I see them in the twinkling stars, And in the glowing ember.

You girls may talk of sweet blue eyes, Or on soft brown eyes tarry, But I will take those jet-black eyes, So sparkling, bright, and merry.

They come to me at twilight hour, They come in morning early, They come my every joy to share, Those jet-black eyes so merry.

They come at noon, and when I'm sad They look at me so kindly, Their ever-tender, sparkling glance Dwells on me, oh, so fondly.

I know two eyes--two jet-black eyes, Yet fond and true and tender; They're bright as any twinkling star Up in the heavens yonder.

I look into those sparkling eyes, Those jet-black eyes so merry, And see within their radiant depths The love-light of my "dearie."

CUPID'S MISTAKE.

Cupid looked forth one bright spring day, And whispered, "Now I must away.

Old winter, with his frost and snow, Took his departure long ago.

"O'er roadside, field, and woodland, too, Sweet violets grow, with eyes so blue; Blossoms of every hue and shade The balmy air with perfume lade.

"There's light and sunshine everywhere; All nature is so wondrous fair; E'en from the woods the wild birds sing A welcome to the newborn spring.

"This surely is my harvest time, To make men bow at Love's sweet shrine; For all around, below, above, Will help me make men fall in love."