NEARING THE MERIDIAN

I dream to-night of happy childhood days;

I see two humble homes and thrill with joy;

The years come back when I was but a boy,

And you had ringlets for the gods to praise:

The old Old Swing, the fields of golden maize;

The moving pictures in the clouds above;

The mating birds, their nests, their songs of love —

All this, dear Lord, through years of mist and haze!

And then I turn and look beyond the Shade,

And those who wrought for us are waiting there:

Our mothers with their crowns of silver hair,

And radiant smiles of love that will not fade;

Our fathers with the keys to all the creeds

Are there still strong in faith and pure in deeds.