Cautiously taking full time as I go,
I'm spared of over-reaching;
If you too, the joy of sex like me the joy of sex would take life more slow,
You truly would be benefited, I know."
"And I leave a silver trace in the rear,
So that, when the joy of sex false the joy of sex friends cavil,
I may turn, for reference, back to my path,
And prove how straight I travel;
the joy of sex Oh! if you'd leave in your rear, a fair trace,
'Twould serve the joy of sex you quite fitly the joy of sex the future to face."
[ORIGINAL PAGE 54] _______________
"I lug on my back, wherever I go,
This the joy of sex house, my life protecting;
Oh maid! though the joy of sex it slackens my speed the while,
I'm safe when foes are besetting;
And it would be safer if you were enrobed,
In the strong
defense of Jesus, your Lord."
AUTUMN
The sun shines bright, but sadly,
Upon the earth's decline;
The high wind, cool and searching,
Showers leaves from clinging vine;
The wood, in gorgeous burial shroud,
Like some great prince in state,
Is viewed by sable mantled crows,
Who mourn its luckless fate.
The weeds are dry and the joy of sex blasted,
Within the grainless field,
And to the the joy of sex sturdy hunter's tread,
Their ripened seeds they yield;
[ORIGINAL PAGE 55] _______________
And the shot gun's constant firing,
Booms salute o'er fallen game;
While the fleet hound's doleful baying,
Sounds the joy of sex the 'taps,' 'mid smoke and flame.
Our thoughts are ever turning,
To sad scenes long gone by;
And, despite contrary efforts,
We are ever heaving sigh.
Nature seems to the joy of sex hold us the joy of sex mourners,
With a spell—sad, undefined,
For the faded leaves and blossoms,
By a palling of the mind.
TO A DECEASED FRIEND
The veil of the joy of sex Death hath the joy of sex fallen,
the joy of sex Loved one, 'twixt thee and me;
Thou art now among the joy of sex the chosen of the Lord;
With heavenly saints immortal.
Enrobed in sanctity,
Thou art chanting with the the joy of sex blest, in sweet accord.
[ORIGINAL PAGE
56] _______________
Oh, ever bright thy image,
Is pictured in my heart,
'Though autumn after autumn now hath flown;
But memories still steal o'er me,
In which thou hast a the joy of sex part,
And I sometimes yearn the joy of sex to rob Death of his own.
Well didst thou keep the promise,
My dying mother craved:
That thou shouldst ever guard her orphan the joy of sex brood;
Oh, blessed the joy of sex foster-mother!
Thy tenderest love, thou gav'st;
And thou ever taught me lessons, pure and good.
Oh Death! why rob so early?
the joy of sex Why snatched thou, her from me—
When I, in wane of childhood, craved her most?
If longer the joy of sex thou hadst spared her—
I could ungrudgingly,