yearned and yearned.

For hearts that yielded to love's desire,

Sent thoughts of a past that were fraught with fire.

The living lover seized hold of her hands— "You are mine," he cried, "and we will not part!" But she felt the clutch of the dead man's touch On the tense-drawn strings of her aching heart. Yet the touch was of ice, and she shrank with fear— Oh! the hands of the dead are cold, so cold— And warm were the arms that waited near To gather her close in their clinging fold.

"You are mine," he cried, "and we will not part!"

On the tense-drawn strings of her aching heart.

Oh! the hands of the dead are cold, so cold—

To gather her close in their clinging fold.

And warm was the light in the living eyes, But the eyes of the dead, how they stare and stare! With sudden surrender she turned to the tender And passionate lover who wooed her there. Farewell to sorrow, hail, sweet to-morrow! The battle was over, the duel was done. They swooned in the blisses of love's fond kisses, And the dead man stared on in the dark alone.

But the eyes of the dead, how they stare and stare!

And passionate lover who wooed her there.

The battle was over, the duel was done.

And the dead man stared on in the dark alone.

 "Love Thyself Last"

Love thyself last. Look near, behold thy duty To those who walk beside thee down life's road; Make glad their days by little acts of beauty, And help them bear the burden of earth's load.

To those who walk beside thee down life's road;

And help them bear the burden of earth's load.

Love thyself last. Look far and find the stranger, Who staggers 'neath his sin and his despair; Go lend a hand, and lead him out of danger, To hights where he may see the world is fair.

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