A new library of poetry and song: . s ofour gain. Gray dusk behind the tamarisks—the par-rots fly together—As the sun is sinking slowly over Home ;And his last ray seems to mock us shackledin a lifelong tetherThat drags us back howeer so far her service, poor her payment—she in ancient, tattered raiment—India, she the grim Stepmother ofour a year of life be lent her, if her tem-ples shrine we door is shut—we may not lookbehind. Black night behind the tamarisks—theowls begin their chorus—As the conches from the temple screamand the fruitless years behind
A new library of poetry and song: . s ofour gain. Gray dusk behind the tamarisks—the par-rots fly together—As the sun is sinking slowly over Home ;And his last ray seems to mock us shackledin a lifelong tetherThat drags us back howeer so far her service, poor her payment—she in ancient, tattered raiment—India, she the grim Stepmother ofour a year of life be lent her, if her tem-ples shrine we door is shut—we may not lookbehind. Black night behind the tamarisks—theowls begin their chorus—As the conches from the temple screamand the fruitless years behind us, ai;dthe hopeless years before us honor. Oh my brothers, Christ-mas Day !Call a truce, then, to our labors—let usfeast with friends and neighbors,And be merry as the custom of ourcaste ;For if faint and forced the laughter, and if sadness follow after,We are richer by one mockingChristmas past. i^-yx-iJL^urt^c^Uc^- /^iJMM. Ou^ tj^£^rv^tCe^ MuUHitfiyA^ ctoMiXKfui^/ afeh-Ce,-f-^y,o-£^^^AJzti< ,UtL—.
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, booksubjectenglishpoetry, bookye
