O Michigan, my Michigan, Let your heart strings unfurl, Blot out the stain of Adrian, And pity the wayward girl. THE ROSE CURE. Written for Rose Gearing, a grandchild seven years old, while at Lorain, O., November, 1897. One day I went out walking, And the road was hard and long, No friend was with me talking, And no bird gave out a song. The air was raw and chilly, The warm summer days had past, My path was rough and hilly, The flowers were fading fast. The winds were blowing madly, Lake Erie was lashed to foam, And I was feeling sadly, Two hundred long miles from home. I tried to stop that feeling, And remove it from my mind, But what would do the healing, Was a thing I had to find. I thought of a nice river, Where the water ever flows, But God the mighty giver, Soon reminded me of Rose. My heart with joy went beaming, My spirits were lifted up, Away went idle dreaming, I had found the healing cup. Hereafter when in sadness, Bewailing ill-fortune’s blows, My thoughts will turn with gladness, To the love of my sweet Rose. And when I need elixir, That is pleasant, safe and sure, I’ll go to my sweet mixer, And quickly take--The Rose Cure. I know of nothing neater, Than my darling’s love for me, And none more pure, or sweeter, Than my love for her shall be. TO A SNOW DROP. The following verses were suggested by seeing a large and beautiful drop of snow, in the form of a star, descend slowly and gradually melt away on my clothing. The first three verses came to me spontaneously and come the nearest to being an inspiration of anything I have written up to January, 1888. I had only to write down the words, which were ready without the labor of composition. I mention this fact not because there is any merit in the verses, but because I had a touch of inspiration, and have ever since believed that writers and speakers are sometimes inspired with thoughts that come to them without passing thru the process of thinking. Written December, 1859. A little thing of icy clearness. Came dropping from the sky above, Filling joyful hearts with gladness, And others with the tears of love. For while hearts are upward bending, Humbly praying for food to eat, Others joy and mirth are blending, Making their many pleasures sweet. Yet this little drop keeps falling, And covers up man’s darkest deeds, As if ’twere its only calling, To drive temptation from our heads. Then let this pure emblem’s features, Teach what we owe to God above And to all our fellow-creatures, Make a payment with our love. A FAMILY SONG. TUNE: _A Life on the Ocean Wave_.