The Boss
Skilled to pull wires, he baffles Nature’s hope,
Who sure intended him to stretch a rope.
Sun-Worship
If I were the rose at your window,
Happiest rose of its crew,
Every blossom I bore would bend inward,
They’d know where the sunshine grew.
Changed Perspective
Full oft the pathway to her door
I’ve measured by the selfsame track,
Yet doubt the distance more and more,
’Tis so much longer coming back!
With a Pair of Gloves Lost in a Wager
We wagered, she for sunshine, I for rain,
And I should hint sharp practice if I dared;
For was not she beforehand sure to gain
Who made the sunshine we together shared?