The Washington bee., 1901-10-12
IOTTINGS OF THE POETS.
The Rules That Failed.

The Rules That Failed.
he lsnged to live a hundred years,
And turned from dissipation;
He managed daily TO indulge
In proper recreation,
He never drank nor smoked nor chewed,
He husbanded his powers
And never varied from his rule
OF keeping proper hours.
He made a study of the forms II
And mysteries OF diet; ~
He stunned the busy marts OF trade,
To live in Ieace and quiet;
He wore hygienic hats and shoes,
HygieniC shirts and collars
He'd ne'er have slept without fresh air,
For twenty thousand dollars.
He might have lived a hundred years,
As he so much desired,
II he had not lain down one day
And suddenly expired.
They rubbed his hands, they called his
name,
Alas! he would not rally
He and a sturdy William goat
Had fTOlicked in an alley.
$. y. Kissr, in Chicago Record Herald.
Natures Voices.
No false note ever strikes In Natures
music,
Pure melody in every tone, the strain
OF harmony is IN its depths the sweetness
or brock, Of wind. and patter of the rain.
A droWsy sense of comfort in ths tapping
OF waves upon ths beach A grand, deep
strain
OF organ in the long, majestic clapping
OF thunder, rumbling in the lightning q
train.
The hum Of bees. the insects IL the meadow
Beating their wings in tOnes as sharp and
shrill
As tree tosds utter In the falling shadow,
The happy songs Of birds; all charm and
thrill
A thousand voices touch our hearts and
senses.
From faintsst eshO n a cave TO rear
OF ocean rushing in beWildeTing fury
To gather In his arms the waiting shore.
Claire K. Alden, in Farm Journal
Peace.
The heart where peace abides is like the
ocean
Whose depths the surface storms can
never move.
But still abides in deep, unrufied quiet,
For all the foam-fieeked waves that ron
above.
The heart where peace abides is like the
heaven.
The limpsd dome where clouds in Eullen
might
May come and go; bat through each rift
The blue shines forth the same serene
and bright.
Oh, send our hearts this blessed peace,
great Father!
ho# 4
Thy dear love,
This life becomes to us. Thy faulty chill
dren,
A foretaste Of the better life above
Miss Z. ii. Warner, in N. Y. Observer.
Harvest Song.
Summer all is pleasure past,
Summer charm Is a taie bats told;
Days Of rsaping have come. at last.
DaSs OF fipeEess and days OF gold;
Down the msacpW-vay, glad anG strong
Love comes singing hAs harvest song.
14ss9 y Eaaxa 80 - Af4sss -.
BpawR ana krsWB1 u sask - ~
Master strong u ths garden neil
Lord OF pasture, and plant and Hsss
Treasure-burCened, he piOds along
Singing brightly his harvest song.
And IN answer the autumn breeze
Sings 3 pleasant and fair refrain.
Through the boUghs OF the orchard trees,
Ger the fields OF the waving grain.
HaHk, the echoes about him thr0Dg-
Natures singing her harvest song.
Frank Wslcott HUT, IN Farm Journal.
Causes OF Comfort.
Petted Wife - This Sld-fashioned
chair is delightfully."- antique, but very
uncomfortable I don't see how your
mother could like it.
Husband (mildly)-I presume she
was usually tired when abe sat down
IN. Y. Weeklx.
Cynical.
at wonder if there really Is any
honor among thiaVssr'
Certainly AOt Thieves are jest
81 bad a. otAss PssR8N."-PhGsasl lei