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,