DECEMBER.
161
Like the vague mistiness of some cold dream
Will come the first faint messengers of snow.
Will come the first faint messengers of snow.
Summer is past! I hear the whispered' words
From out the grim hiatus she has left;
Gone, with her wealth of flowers and singing-birds,
And we, who loved her, sorrow on bereft.
From out the grim hiatus she has left;
Gone, with her wealth of flowers and singing-birds,
And we, who loved her, sorrow on bereft.
Oh, Summer! in thy mellow days of balm
The gates swung open to the graveward track;
Heaven has another voice in the sweet psalm,—
An added treasure,—and the earth a lack.
The gates swung open to the graveward track;
Heaven has another voice in the sweet psalm,—
An added treasure,—and the earth a lack.
Ah, well! the way's not long, and by-and-by
We shall look back on what we suffered here,
And wonder that we thought it worth a sigh,
Or worth the silent utterance of a tear!
We shall look back on what we suffered here,
And wonder that we thought it worth a sigh,
Or worth the silent utterance of a tear!
Passed! and the harvest ended! Night is come!
Day dies in sable gloom along the west;
The night of winter falls: we turn to home,
Our recompense,—our promised place of rest.
Day dies in sable gloom along the west;
The night of winter falls: we turn to home,
Our recompense,—our promised place of rest.
I am content! Amen,—so let it be!
Peace lives within no doubt can e'er dispel!
Throughout all space a calm exists for me,—
I hear the grand assurance—All is well!
Peace lives within no doubt can e'er dispel!
Throughout all space a calm exists for me,—
I hear the grand assurance—All is well!
THE END.
