And there their bones bleached, in the Sulphuric Pits, Until Archæologists came with their kits And made excavations, not thinking of harm, But raising the devil at Rube Murray's Farm. Now Satan's _exposed_ and his ossified get, (A few yet remain in the flesh, I regret!) And Murray of Athens is living, I wot On skeletons dug from this Hell-enic spot. SUB ROSA The Busy Bee, to gather honey, goes Touching the clover bloom and then the rose; An easy prey, the clover blossom yields Its treasures garnered from the fragrant fields; But all the sweetness that the rose adorns, Protected is from theft by jealous thorns. The Bee, ergo, in quest the flowers among, Gets sometimes honey and gets sometimes _stung_. WHITMANESQUE The snow is falling on the hemlock boughs: Courage, Comrade, Spring will come again! The birds are leaving the evergreen trees, And that's why they are not deciduous. O, Winter! I shake thy icy hand, And, shaking, shovel the beautiful snow: But what shall I do with such an abundance? It is already piled high in my neighbor's yard, And he is watching me from his attic window. And yet more snow! How pure you seem tho' falling! AN APEOLOGY This is the Ape, made famous, you'll agree, By Darwin's Evolution Theory. His destiny fulfilled, he rests at ease With tribal Apes, Baboons and Chimpanzees; Preferring, so, to recreation find, Than with his tailless counterpart, Mankind, A doubtful branch of his posterity: And makes a _monkey_, thus, of you and me. THE BUG This is the Bug, unable to resist The blandishments of Entomologist. He soon succumbs to net or trap or pin And fills his place the _cabinet_ within. A volume then explains his habits, source, And all his secrets and his aims of course; Which leads me to conclude, when facts are dug, The Man of Science is the biggest "Bug." WAKE, MY LOVE! Darling, I my vigil keep Close beside you, while you sleep. Let the Dream of Love abide! Cupid will not be denied; For he whispers to you now, And prints kisses on your brow; While his velvet finger tips Hush the protest on your lips. Wake, My Love! And do not chide Cupid pleading by your side! Darkness lingers in the skies Till the light of your bright eyes Adds new brilliance to the sun: Not till then is Day begun! Ope your lips and speak one word-- Sweetest cadence ever heard! Loose your tresses! Let them rest On your snowy, virgin breast, And entwine these roses rare In the ringlets nestling there. Wake, My Love! The sunbeams shed Golden treasures on your head; While Æolus woos your cheeks, And exacts the kiss he seeks. Love, aquiver, draws his bow