The _Brightest_ Star's the _modestest_, And more'n likely writes His motto like the lightnin'-bug's-- _Accordin' To His Lights_. TO A POET ON HIS MARRIAGE MADISON CAWEIN Ever and ever, on and on, From winter dusk to April dawn, This old enchanted world we range From night to light--from change to change-- Or path of burs or lily-bells, We walk a world of miracles. The morning evermore must be A newer, purer mystery-- The dewy grasses, or the bloom Of orchards, or the wood's perfume Of wild sweet-williams, or the wet Blent scent of loam and violet. How wondrous all the ways we fare-- What marvels wait us, unaware!... But yesterday, with eyes ablur And heart that held no hope of Her, You paced the lone path, but the true That led to where she waited you. ART AND POETRY TO HOMER C. DAVENPORT "Wess," he says, and sort o' grins, "Art and Poetry is twins. 'F I could draw as you have drew, Like to jes' swap pens with you." HER SMILE OF CHEER AND VOICE OF SONG ANNA HARRIS RANDALL Spring fails, in all its bravery of brilliant gold and green,-- The sun, the grass, the leafing tree, and all the dazzling scene Of dewy morning--orchard blooms, And woodland blossoms and perfumes With bird-songs sown between. Yea, since _she_ smiles not any more, so every flowery thing Fades, and the birds seem brooding o'er her silence as they sing-- Her smile of cheer and voice of song Seemed so divinely to belong To ever-joyous Spring! Nay, still she smiles.--Our eyes are blurred and see not through our tears: And still her rapturous voice is heard, though not of mortal ears:-- Now ever doth she smile and sing Where Heaven's unending clime of Spring Reclaims those gifts of hers. OLD INDIANY FRAGMENT INTENDED FOR A DINNER OF THE INDIANA SOCIETY OF CHICAGO