: Katydid's Poems by McKinney Kate Slaughter - American poetry 19th century

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PAGE. To A Katydid 7 A Day Dream 9 The Old Ravine 11 Some Day You'll Wish For Me 12 To Hallie 13 I've Asked You to Forget Me 14 Little Blanche 15 The Little Front Gate 16 Drifting 16 Looking Back 17 Scotta 18 The Lover and Flower 20 My Cloud 22 The Decision 23 Autumn 25 A Sister's Love 26 In Memory of Nannie Johnson White 26 The Heliotrope's Soliloquy 27 A Problem 28 My Palace 29 Death of Summer 33 Spring and Summer 34 Under the Snow 35 The Prettiest Girl in Town 36 I Am Musing To-night 37 A Curl 38 Somebody's Face 39 Good-bye, Maggie 40 The Hermit's Farewell 41 A Window I Love 43 Thistle Down 44 Bitter Memories 45 An Acrostic 46 My Angel Visitor 47 Keep a Bright Face, Darling 48 My Neighbor's Mill 49 Dripping Springs 51 In Memoriam 53 The Old Orchard Trees 54 On the Hill-top Grow the Daisies 55 Ella Lee 56 What is the West Wind Saying 58 To a Mountain Stream 59 Pen Pictures 60 To Mother 62 The Broken Heart 63 A Year Ago 65 A Christmas Peep 66 Winnie's Christmas Eve 68 My Heart's Little Room 69 The Three Muses 71 A Recollection 72 Don't Question Him Why 73 Why? 74 A Sunset Longing 74 Journeys 76 The Lost Poem 78 A Maple Leaf 80 A Gallop With Santa Claus 81 Home Memories 83 Sunshine and Shadow 85 Only a Fern Leaf 87 A Dream 88 Those Soft Airs She Played 89 To Albert 91 The Reunion of the Flowers 92 Children of the Brain 94 A Lily of the Valley 96 Lines to the Old Year 97 Why I Smile 98 My Phantom Ships 99 The Weight of a Word 101 An Apology 103 Speak Kindly 104 Those Willing Hands 106 Look Into the Past 107 A Little Face 108 The Canary and Rose 109 A Sigh or a Tear 110 Snow-flakes 112 A Foot-print 113

KATYDID'S POEMS.

To a Katydid.

Little friend among the tree-tops, Chanting low your vesper hymns, Never tiring, Me inspiring, 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.

Do you wonder that at twilight Always by my cottage door I am seated? You've repeated Oft'ner still those tunes of yore; And I love them, love your scanning And your noisy tree-top planning; Though you struggle with a rhyme, In due season comes the chime.

Oft I fancy when your neighbors, In some secret thicket hid, Are debating, Underrating What that little maiden did, That above their clam'rous singing I can hear your accents ringing, Like a voice that must defend From abuse some time-loved friend.

Though the nightingale and swallow Through the poet's measures sing, No reflection Of dejection Petrifies or palls your wing. In the calm and holy moonlight, On and on with hours of midnight, In the darkness, in the rain, Still you whisper your refrain.

Dream I not of fame or fortune, Only this I inward crave, Sweet assurance, Long endurance, Of a love beyond the grave. Should my songs die out and perish, You'll my name repeat and cherish; Though all trace is lost of me, Still you'll call from tree to tree,

KATYDID.

A Day-Dream.

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