. Dreams and realities . AN AUTUMN DAY. LIKE some fair, blushing maidIn bright attire dressed,The old world is arrayedNow—in her best. In crimson, green, and gold,Like Josephs gorgeous coat, The trees their flags unfold,And wave and float. The hills, in purple mist, To greet the sun are dressed; All sparkling and dew-kissed,He leans upon their breast. And as he climbs the blue, Below a glad bee hums,Because hes found a bed Of gold chrysanthemums. iAnd in the maple tree A gleeful, feathered throngIs trying to select Their good-by song. 56 DREAMS AND REALITIES. And summer seems to pauseOn hill a
. Dreams and realities . AN AUTUMN DAY. LIKE some fair, blushing maidIn bright attire dressed,The old world is arrayedNow—in her best. In crimson, green, and gold,Like Josephs gorgeous coat, The trees their flags unfold,And wave and float. The hills, in purple mist, To greet the sun are dressed; All sparkling and dew-kissed,He leans upon their breast. And as he climbs the blue, Below a glad bee hums,Because hes found a bed Of gold chrysanthemums. iAnd in the maple tree A gleeful, feathered throngIs trying to select Their good-by song. 56 DREAMS AND REALITIES. And summer seems to pauseOn hill and field and sky,And lingers yet, becauseShe soon must fly. Adown the western sky,Like limpid, amber wines, In cups of crimson dye,The sunset shines. And from the east, pearl-pale,The stars come, one by one, Then night, swift on their trail,And day is WORK AND WAIT. THOUGH tis night above, abound you,Light will dawn, though it come late;Keep up heart while in the darkness,Work and wait. Though your dreams seem all beyond you,We can sometimes change our fate; Perseverance worketh wonders,Work and wait. Give not up your pet ambition,Struggle on, and, soon or late, Fair success will crown your efforts,Work and wait. THE DAYS OF LONG AGO. ©YEAES that have come, 0 years that havegone,Pause a moment as yon go,Turn backward the pages in lifes great book,And make me a child once more. 0, I sigh for the days of long ago,When my heart was as light as air, When childhood sorrows, like April snow,Melted beneath sunshine fair! 0 give me back the violets blue,By the meadow brooks silvery gleam, And the sweet wild flowers that always grewWhere the willows kiss the stream! And my childhood playmates, where are they ? Have they found life full of woe;Or have they found it the golden dream That we thought it long ago ? The day is cold with wintry c
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