Life is so brief, and to and fro,
Like thistledown above the lea,
Fly on poor days; why then so slow
To bend from pride? Let us bliss know
Ere age the light dims ruthlessly
In thy clear eyes.
Arlo Bates.
THE SWEET, SAD YEARS.
The sweet sad years; the sun, the rain,
Alas! too quickly did they wane,
For each some boon, some blessing bore;
Of smiles and tears each had its store,
Its chequered lot of bliss and pain.
Although it idle be and vain,
Yet cannot I the wish restrain
That I had held them evermore,
The sweet sad years!
Like echo of an old refrain
That long within the mind has lain,
I keep repeating o'er and o'er,
"Nothing can e'er the past restore,
Nothing bring back the years again,
The sweet sad years!"
Rev. Charles D. Bell, D.D.
A WISH.
Fain would I pass from all the pain,
The aching heart and weary brain,
From gnawing grief and withering care,
And passion rising to despair,
From love dissatisfied and vain.