Snowflakes Part 6

So from beneath his flow'ry tent He started on this mission bent.

First to the halls of wealth and rank Went cunning Cupid with his prank.

On reaching them, to his dismay, Those halls in deepest quiet lay; And music, once the food of love, Could not be heard below, above.

So Cupid's little wings he spread, And, flying, to himself he said, "The lawyer will be in, I know, He's poring o'er his books, I trow.

"Poor fellow, what a lot is his!

To be shut up a day like this, From sunlight, flowers, and wild bird's song, Trying to balance right and wrong.

"I'll take my tiny little dart, And lightly touch the lawyer's heart, And show him how love's sweet, glad light Can make his dingy office bright."

But when he reached the longed-for spot, He found the studious lawyer not.

These words he read upon the door, "The lawyer will be in at four."

"To the office of the doctor kind I'll go," said he, "for there I'll find Him tending to his patients' ills With soothing balms and dainty pills."

But doctor's doors were closed, and lo!

Just as poor Cupid turned to go, These words he read 'twixt tears, alack!

"At six the doctor will be back."

Next to the dentist man he flew, And called upon the merchant, too; In every place, the city 'round, But not a bit of game he found.

"Well, well!" said Cupid, with a moan, "The world has cold and heartless grown."

So once again his wings he spread, And over country roads he sped,

Back toward his home among spring flowers, And shady walks, and leafy bowers; But as he flew the stream beside, A crowd of wheelmen there he spied.

"Ha! ha!" laughed he, "I've found them all, Both short and tall, both great and small.

Oh, what a pretty lad I see Gliding along so merrily!

"With pretty boots laced to the knee, His limbs how shapely, blithe, and free; If I can get such game as he, This trip a grand success will be."

So, saying this, his bow he bent, And through the air his arrow sent; Straight toward this pretty lad it flew, And pierced his bosom through and through.

"My! wasn't that a blissful aim.

I'll fly to earth and get my game."

But when he reached that laddie's side He looked perplexed, then horrified.

Then quickly rose and flew away, And as he went was heard to say: "Oh, what a blunder! Now I see Fort Wayne is not the place for me;

"For, counting now my time and cost, This lovely day is worse than lost.

My wings are weary, brain's awhirl, For, oh, 'twas but a Bloomer Girl!"

DEWEY'S VICTORY.

'Tis morning at Manila, The first dawn of the May; Along the eastern horizon We see the light of day.

As spreads its golden splendor And drives away the night, The hills that guard the islands Are decked with diamonds bright.

The cocoa palms so olden, Now robed in silvered green, Stretch their broad branches heav'nward To golden fields serene.

And yon cathedral spire gleams With glory from the skies; The beauty of the Sabbath Across the city lies.

A little bay rests softly Among those sun-kissed isles, Reflecting heaven's azure, And basking in G.o.d's smiles.

Upon its sleeping waters A Spanish squadron lies; Her flags unfurl their folds, and Upon sweet breezes rise.

Lo! another fleet approaches, More beauteous and grand; The flag she bears so proudly Has waved o'er Freedom's land!

She comes across the billows, And in Freedom's cause to-day The smoke and fire of battle Enfold Manila Bay.

Look! on Fort Cavite they're firing!

Their efforts now prevail; 'Tis shattered into splinters, And Spanish cheeks grow pale

The cannons belch forth thunder!

The sh.e.l.ls burst thick and fast!

With might charge Freedom's heroes, Amid the purple blast.

The handsome flagship Reina Christina's sinking now; She's robed in flames and ruin, From th' Olympia's snowy bow.

Now all the Spanish squadron, Its proud and dauntless crew, Sinks 'mid the storm of battle, 'Neath troubled waters blue.

Nor falls a single hero In Freedom's cause so true, While fighting 'neath the banner That's red and white and blue.

The Philippines are freed from All tyrant rule and reign, _Avenged_ the n.o.ble sailors On board our gallant Maine!

The gory hands of Spain are In ocean waters laved, O'er whose enchanted bosom This morn her banner waved.

Hills, mountains, vales, and rocks ring With shouts of victory, As falls the sunset's crimson Across the earth and sea.

And Dewey's n.o.ble squadron, That bravely won the day, On drowsy winds is floating "Old Glory" o'er the bay.

All hail! our great commander, Thou hero of the sea, With your brave and n.o.ble boys you Have captured victory.

Your name is wreathed in glory, Its praises will be sung Wherever Freedom's flag is To Freedom's breezes flung.

The guns you've fired to-day, On the first of flow'ring May, Will thunder o'er Spain's hilltops Ten thousand miles away!

Fling higher Freedom's emblem!

Long may its colors wave Where G.o.d has given victory To Freedom's n.o.ble brave.