GOLDENROD.

SPRING is the morning of the year,And Summer is the noontide bright;The Autumn is the evening clearThat comes before the Winter's night.And in the evening, everywhereAlong the roadside, up and down,I see the golden torches flareLike lighted street-lamps in the town.I think the Butterfly and Bee,From distant meadows coming back,Are quite contented when they seeThese lamps along the homeward track.But those who stay too late get lost;For when the darkness falls about,Down every lighted street the frostWill go and put the torches out!—Frank Dempster Sherman.

SPRING is the morning of the year,And Summer is the noontide bright;The Autumn is the evening clearThat comes before the Winter's night.And in the evening, everywhereAlong the roadside, up and down,I see the golden torches flareLike lighted street-lamps in the town.I think the Butterfly and Bee,From distant meadows coming back,Are quite contented when they seeThese lamps along the homeward track.But those who stay too late get lost;For when the darkness falls about,Down every lighted street the frostWill go and put the torches out!—Frank Dempster Sherman.

SPRING is the morning of the year,And Summer is the noontide bright;The Autumn is the evening clearThat comes before the Winter's night.

SPRING is the morning of the year,

And Summer is the noontide bright;

The Autumn is the evening clear

That comes before the Winter's night.

And in the evening, everywhereAlong the roadside, up and down,I see the golden torches flareLike lighted street-lamps in the town.

And in the evening, everywhere

Along the roadside, up and down,

I see the golden torches flare

Like lighted street-lamps in the town.

I think the Butterfly and Bee,From distant meadows coming back,Are quite contented when they seeThese lamps along the homeward track.

I think the Butterfly and Bee,

From distant meadows coming back,

Are quite contented when they see

These lamps along the homeward track.

But those who stay too late get lost;For when the darkness falls about,Down every lighted street the frostWill go and put the torches out!—Frank Dempster Sherman.

But those who stay too late get lost;

For when the darkness falls about,

Down every lighted street the frost

Will go and put the torches out!

—Frank Dempster Sherman.


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