Reprint of the original, first published in 1874.

Excerpt from Poetic Buds Pursue thy flight on fancy's wing! In sympathetic numbers tell The woes a guileless maid befell! Down in a vale, beside a wood, A lowly white-thatched cottage stood 'tis years ago, and matters not The name, but 'twas a lovely spot Soft verdure clothed the sloping hills, Profusely veined with purling rills; Bright-foliaged trees waved high around The craggy steeps with pines were crowned. Here flowers in wild luxuriance grew; And birds to its safe coverts flew. Sweet Philomel her dreamy song Would often through the night prolong. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

In this book, I have covered a broad spectrum of topics in my poetry: faith, hope, charity, and love of God and neighbor, as Christ taught us to do. Subjects include church holy days, life and death, sickness, human relations, nature, humor, the changing seasons, the poor, the abused, the addicted, the homeless, pets, and wildlife. Being a WWII veteran, war and those who have served, been injured or died, the MIAs, and patriotism have always been important in my life. Each holiday or season inspires me to write about the current happenings. No two people see things the same, so I enjoy letting others see into my thoughts at the time a poem was written. Writing poetry is a shorthand to express my feelings and emotions on topics that are important to me. I hope you enjoy my poetry and ramblings through a variety of topics. With God’s help, I shall write as long as I can sit at a keyboard. Thank you for your interest in this endeavor. ***** My Finale I hear the Lord calling, He’s calling me home, that’s why I’m writing, this poet’s last poem. I love You, my dear Lord, when You call, I’ll be there, it is You I’ve adored, You have answered my prayer. When You do call me, I’ll write no more poems, I pray I’ll be taken, to my heavenly home. Bud

Reprint of the original, first published in 1858.