St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1889-09-29

not all. There are the funny young
men who have been told by their pa
rents that they will make name for
themselves some day. Instead OF CIV
ing the anxious world a chance at their
wit. through something of a funny
nature in prose. they cudgel tneir
young brains for fun in rhyme" Ii IS
generally very funny; yes, indeed. VI
course the above does not allude 10 lle
professional poets, " no receive
so much per line. but to the
amateurs who will some gay
be what they are. Some OF
the effusions of the Young people-by
the way. ii is hardly fair TO call them all
young, as some of the amateur poets
are not young by any means, sentiment
tai old maids. for inStance-are very
clever and possessed of great deal OF
merit. On the hook of the pOetical edl-
tor of the GLOBE has hung a pile OF
poems hungering for a chance to be
fingered by the typos. An opportunity
Is here taken TO give them little fresh
air by having them printed.
TT
Here is one written by Wit. his VII
IS of the subtle kind. He hides IT until
the last thing. when, in the last line. ne
springs il, accomplishing sort OF
coup u 6Idi- DIS IL NtIt-
cannot sing the old songs now,
] sang loEg years ago;
tbe times are changed, and I've arranged,
A rocky row to hoe.
The glausome thoughts that used 10 set
Ny sanguine soul agloW.
Have taken wings and flown away
On the summer winds that blow,
The eyes That used TO charm me so
Are mol whit less blue;
The love used 10 treasure
Is not whit less true:
10 name the causes for the change
/ cannot for my life.
The chsrmer is quite charming still,
But then-She is my wife.
I
The beauty of some of these gems
may be lost in composition topographic
ally speaking). so that when critics pass
upon them they must take that fact
into consideration, For instance, If the
rhyme is lost by the printer mistaking
love for Cow" which does not rhyme
with dove" the poet himself must not
be blamed, or his creation cenSured.
Here's another:
Now, dearest. to be good,
Cara Milo.
And with me walk into The wood
Cara Mic.
Let US take day s vacation,
If ii has mamma sapprobatiOn
Without any stipulation,
Cara Milo.
Ah!Theres the pretty humble bee,
Cara Milo.
Ouch and there's his singer stuck in me
Cara Mic.
You may laugh, but its not funny
To taste the bee, but not his honey.
No more woods for me for any money,
Cara Mic.
The little five-line gem below was
written by a young Englishman, who,
unlike the majority of his cOuntrymen,
rs some poetry In his soul:
There's sweet music on the seas;
There's poem in the sky;
There's love song on the breeze.
When thou art nigh;
When thou art nigh.
I -
But here comes fOur-line effusiOn
from a young man who has evidently
''been thar" as the expression goes:
The hours, the days. the months the years,
All seem to fly on winged feet;
And we are racked with many fears
When there are bills to meet.
+ I
The next will please woman when she
first begins to read, but she will prOba
bly, change her mind before she gets
through with the rhyme:
Sweet are the violets,
But not as sweet as you, dearie.
Expensive are the hyacinths,
But not as dear as you, cherie.
Life would be barren waste;
Wine would lose its crimson hue;
The sky would seem no longer blue;
To marry I'd no longer haste
If l lost you, dearie.
-
The following two verses were taken
from a poem TedOlent with rhythmic
music and the subtle perfume of Senti-
ment. but as 1t smacked somewhat of
being ''cribbed," the whole of it is not
published. 1t bore the name of 1.-The
Mermaid, 'Witching Siren of the Sea-"
When the shadows of evening fall soft DER
the sea;
Row mournful and sweet sounds her weird
But woe to the mortal who, lured by her
charms,
His danger forgets in the clasp of her arms.
She'll bind him with coils of her silken hair:
She'll pillow his head on her bosom fair.
Then gently she'll sink meath the cruel
wave,
Till she lays him asleep in coral grave.
TIT
The "Shadow Side" was written by
young lady living on Rosabel street,
whose initials are appended. Several
of the verses are omitted on account of
The meter. The verses published show
for themselves, and no comment is
necessary.
How long ago it seems to me
Since fair, young girlhood's golden sun
Left glorious tinting in my sky
When the work of a day was done.
Now, o1tener after weary day
Il.
It brings fOreShadoWing of the rest
That surely must, and will, come soon.
For the sunny side of my life is past
No alternate brightness or gloom.
But tbs the twilight, deep and colorless now,
That leads ever on TO the tomb.
All. foolish girl. when think of it now,
How l loved, but to love in vain;
Tho the years have built barrier between,
What can it cause other than pain?
sometimes feel as if, up in heaven,
Our lives may be lived DER anew;
There it may be, we, as in days of yore,
The sunbeams together will view.
TT
Last comes THE Bridge" People
can size ii up for what it is worth and