But now when I seek that summit We are two ghosts that go; Only two shades of a thing that died, Once in the long ago. So I sit me down in the silence, And say to my soul, "Be still," So the world may not know we died that night, From weeping on "Heart-break Hill." LYRICS OF SUNSHINE AND SHADOW A BOY'S SUMMER SONG 'Tis fine to play In the fragrant hay, And romp on the golden load; To ride old Jack To the barn and back, Or tramp by a shady road. To pause and drink, At a mossy brink; Ah, that is the best of joy, And so I say On a summer's day, What's so fine as being a boy? Ha, Ha! With line and hook By a babbling brook, The fisherman's sport we ply; And list the song Of the feathered throng That flit in the branches nigh. At last we strip For a quiet dip; Ah, that is the best of joy. For this I say On a summer's day, What's so fine as being a boy? Ha, Ha! THE SAND-MAN I know a man With face of tan, But who is ever kind; Whom girls and boys Leaves games and toys Each eventide to find. When day grows dim, They watch for him, He comes to place his claim; He wears the crown Of Dreaming-town; The sand-man is his name. When sparkling eyes Troop sleepywise And busy lips grow dumb; When little heads Nod toward the beds, We know the sand-man's come. JOHNNY SPEAKS The sand-man he's a jolly old fellow, His face is kind and his voice is mellow, But he makes your eyelids as heavy as lead, And then you got to go off to bed; I don't think I like the sand-man. But I've been playing this livelong day; It does make a fellow so tired to play! Oh, my, I'm a-yawning right here before ma, I'm the sleepiest fellow that ever you saw. I think I do like the sand-man. WINTER-SONG Oh, who would be sad tho' the sky be a-graying, And meadow and woodlands are empty and bare; For softly and merrily now there come playing, The little white birds thro' the winter-kissed air. The squirrel's enjoying the rest of the thrifty, He munches his store in the old hollow tree; Tho' cold is the blast and the snow-flakes are drifty He fears the white flock not a whit more than we. _Chorus:_ Then heigho for the flying snow! Over the whitened roads we go, With pulses that tingle, And sleigh-bells a-jingle For winter's white birds here's a cheery heigho! A CHRISTMAS FOLKSONG De win' is blowin' wahmah, An hit's blowin' f'om de bay; Dey's a so't o' mist a-risin' All erlong de meddah way; Dey ain't a hint o' frostin' On de groun' ner in de sky, An' dey ain't no use in hopin' Dat de snow'll 'mence to fly. It's goin' to be a green Christmas, An' sad de day fu' me. I wish dis was de las' one Dat evah I should see.