Make me to love my feller-man-- Yea, though his bitterness Doth bite as only adders can-- Let _me_ the fault confess, And go to him and clasp his hand And love him none the less. So keep me, Lord, ferever free From vane concete er whim; And he whose pius eyes can see My faults, however dim,-- Oh! let him pray the least fer me, And me the most fer him. THE FIRST BLUEBIRD Jest rain and snow! and rain again! And dribble! drip! and blow! Then snow! and thaw! and slush! and then-- Some more rain and snow! This morning I was 'most afeard To _wake_ up--when, I jing! I seen the sun shine out and heerd The first bluebird of Spring!-- Mother she'd raised the winder some;-- And in acrost the orchurd come, Soft as a angel's wing, A breezy, treesy, beesy hum, Too sweet fer anything! The winter's shroud was rent a-part-- The sun bust forth in glee,-- And when that _that bluebird_ sung, my hart Hopped out o' bed with me! EVAGENE BAKER--WHO WAS DYIN' OF DRED CONSUMTION AS THESE LINES WAS PENNED BY A TRUE FRIEND Pore afflicted Evagene! Whilse the woods is fresh and green, And the birds on ev'ry hand Sings in rapture sweet and grand,-- Thou, of all the joyus train, Art bedridden, and in pain Sich as only them can cherish Who, like flowrs, is first to perish! When the neghbors brought the word She was down, the folks inferred It was jest a cold she'd caught, Dressin' thinner than she'd ort Fer the frolicks and the fun Of the dancin' that she'd done 'Fore the Spring was flush er ary Blossom on the peach er cherry. But, last Sund'y, her request Fer the Church's prayers was jest Rail hart-renderin' to hear!-- Many was the silunt tear And the tremblin' sigh, to show She was dear to us below On this earth--and _dearer_, even, When we thought of her a-leavin'! Sisters prayed, and coted from Genesis to Kingdom-come Provin' of her title clear To the mansions.--"Even _her_," _They_ claimed, "might be saved, _someway_, Though she'd danced, and played crowkay, And wrought on her folks to git her Fancy shoes that never fit her!" _Us_ to pray fer _Evagene_!-- With her hart as puore and clean As a rose is after rain When the sun comes out again!-- What's the use to pray for _her_? _She_ don't need no prayin' fer!-- Needed, all her life, more _playin'_ Than she ever needed prayin'! I jest thought of all she'd been Sence her _mother_ died, and when She turned in and done _her_ part-- All _her_ cares on that child-hart!-- Thought of years she'd slaved--and had Saved the farm--danced and was glad.... Mayby Him who marks the sporry Will smooth down her wings tomorry!