A LAST WORD.

Time now to close these pages, far away

And fainter the old hills of childhood fade,

The very graves where the young dreams are laid

Are hidden deep in autumn leaves to-day.

It may be they have brought thee nearer truth,

These hasting years, but fain wouldst thou have stayed

In the old land where trust was unbetrayed,

And love was honest in the eyes of youth.

And now it’ s winter, and the moon of snow

Blind mists of doubt, and chill unfriendly rain,

But somewhere, sometime in the year, we know

It must be spring and flowertime again.

Do thou but keep, though winter days be long,

Thy young love loyal, and thy young faith strong.