. Poems of life in the country and by the sea. e;Moonlight, shadowy visions, Visions of olden times,Folded their charms around me. Moved by the ringing chimes. Chimes were ringing, ringing. Ringing each joyful their musical diamonds The old, old songs to tell. (One summer eve, while sitting under the trees in the Bostoniniblic garden, near to the many churches.) A SongA LIGHT FROM PARADISE I dreamed that I sailed on a river fair Towards the heavenly Jerusalem,While from far away, all the golden day, Came sweet songs from the angels home. A storm swept the waters, the daylight fle
. Poems of life in the country and by the sea. e;Moonlight, shadowy visions, Visions of olden times,Folded their charms around me. Moved by the ringing chimes. Chimes were ringing, ringing. Ringing each joyful their musical diamonds The old, old songs to tell. (One summer eve, while sitting under the trees in the Bostoniniblic garden, near to the many churches.) A SongA LIGHT FROM PARADISE I dreamed that I sailed on a river fair Towards the heavenly Jerusalem,While from far away, all the golden day, Came sweet songs from the angels home. A storm swept the waters, the daylight the night, fierce the wind and cold, But I knew that the King of that heavenly landWould bring me safe into His fold. I dreamed that the King sent his angels down. That they played on their harps of gold,Till the storm was stilled and my soul was thrilled While the harmonies upward rolled. The darkness of night sped softly a cloud in the skys blue dome. Then a glorious Light shone from ParadiseAnd I knew I was almost home. 78. POEMS FROM LIFES EXPERIENCE THE COTTAGER When the setting sun with its slanting the fleecy clouds paints a crimson the swallows nest in the roof of thatch,Then his door swings wide with its loosened latch,And the cottager loves in his easy chairTo sit and rest in comfort there. To him kind Nature gifts will bring,The flowers will bloom, the birds will the waving grass on the hillsides greenIs a picture fair as the eye hath seen ;And though he works and digs the envys not the idle rich. For when his long days work is done,Work since the rising of the little children often comeTo meet him ere he reaches home, And happy pass the evening hoursAmid the vines and leafy bowersThat cluster round his cottage door;Contented there, he wants no more. Theres happiness in country from the endless toil and strifeThat often mar and leave their traceOn many a one-time happy face. 80
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookidpoemsoflifei, bookyear1915
