and E. H. Johnson, who was the only one present to keep

Cards help not the bread that tastes of mold,

Cards dye not your hair to black more deep,

Cards make not the children cease to weep.

Scorned, I sit with half shut eyes all day --

Watch the cataract of sunshine play

Down the wall, and dance upon the floor.

Sun, come down and break the dungeon door!

Of such gold dust could I make a key, --