. The land of inner light; an essay in prose and verse . e was gone. A luscious peach hung from its stem, To rouse the finder said: When I return, Ill take a juicy passing back along that way Next day at early dawn,He sought in vain to find the fruit; The luscious peach was LOST OPPORTUNITIES A crystal spring flowed from a rock To quench the toilers one: Wheneer my work is done Ill drink this water when the weary worker came, All tired out and worn,A drought had dried the water up; The crystal spring was gone. A charming face peered from its
. The land of inner light; an essay in prose and verse . e was gone. A luscious peach hung from its stem, To rouse the finder said: When I return, Ill take a juicy passing back along that way Next day at early dawn,He sought in vain to find the fruit; The luscious peach was LOST OPPORTUNITIES A crystal spring flowed from a rock To quench the toilers one: Wheneer my work is done Ill drink this water when the weary worker came, All tired out and worn,A drought had dried the water up; The crystal spring was gone. A charming face peered from its place, To cheer the hearts of one: When fortune comes my way, Ill woo and win it after years, with bitter tears, And sad emotions torn,He learned the one he sought was dead; The charming face was gone. A message great came from on high To benefit one: When earthly pleasures palL Ill bear this truth in when at last he would atone For record most forlorn,The Reaper grim had summoned him; His life itself was gone. 57. Htfes; Mu$itm& (Behold!) A trinket in a lighted window Sparks and flashes, glows and glitters,And now a man stands gazing idly, Mindless of the time he fritters. Electric bulbs are brilliant, glowing,Shooting shafts of dazzling light, And still the man stays there admiring,Gazing at the trinket bright. He hesitates, then mounts the step,Enters in the merchants door, And quickly oer the counter passes Hard earned dollars, more and more. See! Now he grasps his costly treasure,Wends his joyous journey home, And plans to make a great sensationEvry place where he may roam. 58 LIFES ILLUSIONS At last his downy couch he seeks To dream of triumphs come to pass. (But Ah!) When morning comes his ardor trinket fades. Tis made of glass. A farmer rough is thinking deep,As he upturns the drying hay, And sadly figures profits up Of painful work each weary day. Why not accept the offered chance To buy and own the brick of gold? Why alw
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookpublishernewyo, bookyear1912
