62
POEMS.
Hail me, fond parents! who yearn to behold
Your bright opening buds into flowers expand;
Ere the last parting knell of my course hath been told,
What beauties may rise 'neath my fostering hand;
And gazing with joy on the forms ye hold dear,
Ye may bless the proud work of the Coming Year!
Your bright opening buds into flowers expand;
Ere the last parting knell of my course hath been told,
What beauties may rise 'neath my fostering hand;
And gazing with joy on the forms ye hold dear,
Ye may bless the proud work of the Coming Year!
Perchance to the blighted in heart I may bring
A smile that shall lighten each care-wasted face—
Some bright, gleaming flashes of joy on my wing,
To blot out the vestige of misery's trace;
Mistrust me not yet, ye may have naught to fear
In threading the maze of the Coming Year.
A smile that shall lighten each care-wasted face—
Some bright, gleaming flashes of joy on my wing,
To blot out the vestige of misery's trace;
Mistrust me not yet, ye may have naught to fear
In threading the maze of the Coming Year.
Then grudge not my welcome—bring holly so green,
To twine round my brow, when my presence ye see;
Let the memory sad of the ill that has been,
Be lost in the hope of the good that may be.
Prepare the gay dance and the glad festal cheer,
And haste ye to welcome the Coming Year.
H. A.
To twine round my brow, when my presence ye see;
Let the memory sad of the ill that has been,
Be lost in the hope of the good that may be.
Prepare the gay dance and the glad festal cheer,
And haste ye to welcome the Coming Year.
H. A.
