St Nicholas [serial] . actors face imprintedeverywhere, teaching us to ex-press our gratitude to the Godwho has planted our souls in Hisworld, by letting our lives blos-som into beauty like His. Or,we might say, it is as if Hewho made the sun were showingus that if we need more lightthan there is in the darkeningskies, He can kindle sunshinefor us out of the coldest andthe dryest sod beneath our in the leafless and flower-less November, the heart of the poet, which isalso the heart of a little child, can see somethingbeautiful. Let that wintry month, if it seemsgloomy to you, be reme
St Nicholas [serial] . actors face imprintedeverywhere, teaching us to ex-press our gratitude to the Godwho has planted our souls in Hisworld, by letting our lives blos-som into beauty like His. Or,we might say, it is as if Hewho made the sun were showingus that if we need more lightthan there is in the darkeningskies, He can kindle sunshinefor us out of the coldest andthe dryest sod beneath our in the leafless and flower-less November, the heart of the poet, which isalso the heart of a little child, can see somethingbeautiful. Let that wintry month, if it seemsgloomy to you, be remembered in Alice Caryswise, sweet words : The leaves are fading ami falling,The winds are rough and wild,The birds have ceased their calling,But let me tell you, my child, Though day by day, as it closes,Doth darker and colder grow,The roots of the bright red rosesWill keep alive in the snow. And when the winter is over, The boughs will get new leaves,The quail come back to the clover,And the swallow back to the eaves ;. t IV.—52. 802 A CENTURY AGO. [October, The robin will wear, on his bosomA vest that is bright and new, And the loveliest way-side blossomWill shine with the sun and dew. The leaves to-day are whirling, The brooks are all dry and dumb;But let me tell you, my darling,The spring will be sure to come. There must be rough, cold weather,And winds and rains so wild ;Not all good things togetherCome to us here, my child ! 1 So, when some dear joy losesIts beauteous summer glow,Think how the roots of the rosesAre kept alive in the snow !
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Keywords: ., bookauthordodgemar, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookyear1873
