Poetry A DAY DREAM. Behind the distant mountain, falls The frxding golden sun, And to our weary heart recalls Those happy days—again to come— So sweetly resplendent ' . With joy, oh, transcendent! Those days of our vacation. Those days like minutes swiftly passed— Yes, fleeting as a dream; But still the joys that we amassed Through many a varied scheme, Shall live in mem'ry dear, And draw us ever near Those days of recreation. And now while sitting in our room, Some gazing keen and sharp; And some appdaring as if doom Would spoil a purposed lark, With frightful glance we see, The coming days will be Those days of tribulation, And worse than these, then next will come The days that try men's souls— Their knowledge, too—and oh what some Will do as each day rolls! For strong hearts sometimes weep To think of what they'll reap— Those days of examination. More painful yet than each or all, The days of which we spoke, Are those that cause the saddened fall, And blight our every hope. It always gives us fear To think they're drawing near Those days of quituation. Thus many a castle did we build With tow'ring walls and spire; As with a tale each heart was thrilled, And kindled to a fire, We then forgot the past, And thought of now as last,
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