334 POEMS 
Oh lift the old-time light within thine eyes! 
Set free the pristine passion from thy tongue! 
Strength grows with burdens ; make an end 
of sighs, 
Let thy thoughts soar again their mates among, 
And as yon oriole’s eager matins rise, 
Abroad once more be thy strong anthem 
flung ! 
THE PLAYMATE HOURS 
Dawn lingers silent in the shade of night, 
Till on the gloaming Baby’s laughter rings. 
Then smiling Day awakes, and open flings 
Her golden doors, to speed the shining flight 
Of restless hours, gay children of the light. 
Each eager playfellow to Baby brings 
Some separate gift,—a flitting bird that 
sings 
With her; a waving branch of berries bright; 
A heap of rustling leaves’; each trifle cheers 
This joyous little life but just begun. 
No weary hour to her brings sighs or tears; 
And when the shadows warn the loitering sun, 
With blossoms in her hands, untouched by 
fears, 
She softly falls asleep, and day is done. 
M. T. HL 
