LIGHT AND SHADOW.Ingolden pomp at morn and eveThe purple mountains rise,With banners bright of waving greenGay flaunting to the skies;But upward toiling, panting, slow,Patient the fleetest step must go.A winding pathway through the valeEntices weary feet;The shining waters sing of peace,The morning breeze is sweet;But nook or covert there is noneTo shelter from the noonday sun.The fainting trav’ller turns asideTo seek the woodland shade—Beyond the thicket, stretching cool,Invites the mossy glade—But thorny is the tangled way,And devious paths his steps betray.The fleeciest cloud that graceful floatsIn summer skies of light,Within a veil of tender mistConceals the tempest’s might;And winds that stir with softest breathAre freighted with the seeds of death.The loveliest blossom that unfoldsIts beauty to the dayMust yield its treasured fragrance up,Then droop and fade away;And greenwood birds that sweetest singAre soonest gone on flitting wing.The undertone of earth’s delightsIn sorrow’s pensive sighIs mingled with the echoing breezeEre joy’s glad accents die—Of all the strains that saddest floatAre requiems blent with triumph’s note.Chicago, October 14.
LIGHT AND SHADOW.Ingolden pomp at morn and eveThe purple mountains rise,With banners bright of waving greenGay flaunting to the skies;But upward toiling, panting, slow,Patient the fleetest step must go.A winding pathway through the valeEntices weary feet;The shining waters sing of peace,The morning breeze is sweet;But nook or covert there is noneTo shelter from the noonday sun.The fainting trav’ller turns asideTo seek the woodland shade—Beyond the thicket, stretching cool,Invites the mossy glade—But thorny is the tangled way,And devious paths his steps betray.The fleeciest cloud that graceful floatsIn summer skies of light,Within a veil of tender mistConceals the tempest’s might;And winds that stir with softest breathAre freighted with the seeds of death.The loveliest blossom that unfoldsIts beauty to the dayMust yield its treasured fragrance up,Then droop and fade away;And greenwood birds that sweetest singAre soonest gone on flitting wing.The undertone of earth’s delightsIn sorrow’s pensive sighIs mingled with the echoing breezeEre joy’s glad accents die—Of all the strains that saddest floatAre requiems blent with triumph’s note.Chicago, October 14.
Ingolden pomp at morn and eveThe purple mountains rise,With banners bright of waving greenGay flaunting to the skies;But upward toiling, panting, slow,Patient the fleetest step must go.A winding pathway through the valeEntices weary feet;The shining waters sing of peace,The morning breeze is sweet;But nook or covert there is noneTo shelter from the noonday sun.The fainting trav’ller turns asideTo seek the woodland shade—Beyond the thicket, stretching cool,Invites the mossy glade—But thorny is the tangled way,And devious paths his steps betray.The fleeciest cloud that graceful floatsIn summer skies of light,Within a veil of tender mistConceals the tempest’s might;And winds that stir with softest breathAre freighted with the seeds of death.The loveliest blossom that unfoldsIts beauty to the dayMust yield its treasured fragrance up,Then droop and fade away;And greenwood birds that sweetest singAre soonest gone on flitting wing.The undertone of earth’s delightsIn sorrow’s pensive sighIs mingled with the echoing breezeEre joy’s glad accents die—Of all the strains that saddest floatAre requiems blent with triumph’s note.
Ingolden pomp at morn and eveThe purple mountains rise,With banners bright of waving greenGay flaunting to the skies;But upward toiling, panting, slow,Patient the fleetest step must go.A winding pathway through the valeEntices weary feet;The shining waters sing of peace,The morning breeze is sweet;But nook or covert there is noneTo shelter from the noonday sun.The fainting trav’ller turns asideTo seek the woodland shade—Beyond the thicket, stretching cool,Invites the mossy glade—But thorny is the tangled way,And devious paths his steps betray.The fleeciest cloud that graceful floatsIn summer skies of light,Within a veil of tender mistConceals the tempest’s might;And winds that stir with softest breathAre freighted with the seeds of death.The loveliest blossom that unfoldsIts beauty to the dayMust yield its treasured fragrance up,Then droop and fade away;And greenwood birds that sweetest singAre soonest gone on flitting wing.The undertone of earth’s delightsIn sorrow’s pensive sighIs mingled with the echoing breezeEre joy’s glad accents die—Of all the strains that saddest floatAre requiems blent with triumph’s note.
Ingolden pomp at morn and eveThe purple mountains rise,With banners bright of waving greenGay flaunting to the skies;But upward toiling, panting, slow,Patient the fleetest step must go.
Ingolden pomp at morn and eve
The purple mountains rise,
With banners bright of waving green
Gay flaunting to the skies;
But upward toiling, panting, slow,
Patient the fleetest step must go.
A winding pathway through the valeEntices weary feet;The shining waters sing of peace,The morning breeze is sweet;But nook or covert there is noneTo shelter from the noonday sun.
A winding pathway through the vale
Entices weary feet;
The shining waters sing of peace,
The morning breeze is sweet;
But nook or covert there is none
To shelter from the noonday sun.
The fainting trav’ller turns asideTo seek the woodland shade—Beyond the thicket, stretching cool,Invites the mossy glade—But thorny is the tangled way,And devious paths his steps betray.
The fainting trav’ller turns aside
To seek the woodland shade—
Beyond the thicket, stretching cool,
Invites the mossy glade—
But thorny is the tangled way,
And devious paths his steps betray.
The fleeciest cloud that graceful floatsIn summer skies of light,Within a veil of tender mistConceals the tempest’s might;And winds that stir with softest breathAre freighted with the seeds of death.
The fleeciest cloud that graceful floats
In summer skies of light,
Within a veil of tender mist
Conceals the tempest’s might;
And winds that stir with softest breath
Are freighted with the seeds of death.
The loveliest blossom that unfoldsIts beauty to the dayMust yield its treasured fragrance up,Then droop and fade away;And greenwood birds that sweetest singAre soonest gone on flitting wing.
The loveliest blossom that unfolds
Its beauty to the day
Must yield its treasured fragrance up,
Then droop and fade away;
And greenwood birds that sweetest sing
Are soonest gone on flitting wing.
The undertone of earth’s delightsIn sorrow’s pensive sighIs mingled with the echoing breezeEre joy’s glad accents die—Of all the strains that saddest floatAre requiems blent with triumph’s note.
The undertone of earth’s delights
In sorrow’s pensive sigh
Is mingled with the echoing breeze
Ere joy’s glad accents die—
Of all the strains that saddest float
Are requiems blent with triumph’s note.
Chicago, October 14.