October is the treasurer of the year, And all the months pay bounty to her store; The fields and orchards still their tribute bear, And fill her brimming coffers more and more. But she, with youthful lavishness, Spends all her wealth in gaudy dress, And decks herself in garments bold Of scarlet, purple, red, and gold. She heedeth not how swift the hours fly, But smiles and sings her happy life along; She only sees above a shining sky; She only hears the breezes' voice in song. Her garments trail the woodlands through, And gather pearls of early dew That sparkle, till the roguish Sun Creeps up and steals them every one. But what cares she that jewels should be lost, When all of Nature's bounteous wealth is hers? Though princely fortunes may have been their cost, Not one regret her calm demeanor stirs. Whole-hearted, happy, careless, free, She lives her life out joyously, Nor cares when Frost stalks o'er her way And turns her auburn locks to gray. A SUMMER'S NIGHT The night is dewy as a maiden's mouth, The skies are bright as are a maiden's eyes, Soft as a maiden's breath the wind that flies Up from the perfumed bosom of the South. Like sentinels, the pines stand in the park; And hither hastening, like rakes that roam, With lamps to light their wayward footsteps home, The fireflies come stagg'ring down the dark. SHIPS THAT PASS IN THE NIGHT Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing; I look far out into the pregnant night, Where I can hear a solemn booming gun And catch the gleaming of a random light, That tells me that the ship I seek is passing, passing. My tearful eyes my soul's deep hurt are glassing; For I would hail and check that ship of ships. I stretch my hands imploring, cry aloud, My voice falls dead a foot from mine own lips, And but its ghost doth reach that vessel, passing, passing. O Earth, O Sky, O Ocean, both surpassing, O heart of mine, O soul that dreads the dark! Is there no hope for me? Is there no way That I may sight and check that speeding bark Which out of sight and sound is passing, passing? THE DELINQUENT Goo'-by, Jinks, I got to hump, Got to mek dis pony jump; See dat sun a-goin' down 'N' me a-foolin' hyeah in town! Git up, Suke--go long! Guess Mirandy'll think I's tight, Me not home an' comin' on night. What 's dat stan'in' by de fence? Pshaw! why don't I lu'n some sense? Git up, Suke--go long! Guess I spent down dah at Jinks' Mos' a dollah fur de drinks. Bless yo'r soul, you see dat star? Lawd, but won't Mirandy rar? Git up, Suke--go long! Went dis mo'nin', hyeah it 's night, Dah 's de cabin dah in sight. Who's dat stan'in' in de do'? Dat must be Mirandy, sho', Git up, Suke--go long!