KATYDID'S + POEMS.
I LTTLE friend among the tree-tops,
Chanting low your vesper hymns,
Seated 'neath the swaying limbs,
Do you know your plaintive calling,
When the summer dew is falling,
Echoes sweeter through my brain
Than any soft, harmonic strain
Others call you an intruder,
Say discordant notes you know;
Or that sadness,
More than gladness,
From your little heart doth flow;
And that you awake from sleeping
Thoughts in quiet they were keeping,
Faithless love, or ill-laid schemes,
Hopes unanchored-broken dreams.
No such phantoms to my vision
Doth your lullaby impart,
But sweet faces,
No tear traces,
Smile as joyous in my heart,
As when first at mother's knee
Learned I your sweet mystery.
I defend you with my praises,
For your song my soul upraises.