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Article WAITING: THE POET'S GUERDON. Page 1 of 1
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Waiting: The Poet's Guerdon.
WAITING : THE POET'S GUERDON .
BY BRO . EMEA HOLMES . THERE comes a glow o ' er the distant bills , A rift in the clouds so far away ;
A murmer of music from trickling rills , The laughter of children at their play . The storm it passetb , and sweet winds blow , From the balmy south clo the zephyrs come And the waves of the sea fall soft and slow
On tbe golden sands near tbe poet's home . The times of unrest are past ancl gone , The night was dark , but tbe morn is bright ; Through tbe days of gloom he had wandered on , For " at eA'entide there shall be light . "
The storms of life had well nigh wrought Their worst upon him , and left him slain ; SOITOAV and poverty came unsought , No pleasure he tasted , but only pain . The world was harshbut be struggled on
, , Caring for nothing but only fame ; And at last unto him tbe great sun shone , At the end of the long day honour came . Ancl he camly waits at the close of life , Content that the Avorld now reads him riht ;
g In patience remembering , through , the strife , That " at eA'entide there shall be light . " And we that have sat at bis feet , ancl learned The lessons taught by bis years of care , Should feel that , because all wrong he spurned ,
He was kept from the dread of a dark despair . Our human nature is A'ery frail , And tbe fall of tbe weak is a piteous si ght ; So let us be brave , ancl never quail , For "at eventide there shall be light . "
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Waiting: The Poet's Guerdon.
WAITING : THE POET'S GUERDON .
BY BRO . EMEA HOLMES . THERE comes a glow o ' er the distant bills , A rift in the clouds so far away ;
A murmer of music from trickling rills , The laughter of children at their play . The storm it passetb , and sweet winds blow , From the balmy south clo the zephyrs come And the waves of the sea fall soft and slow
On tbe golden sands near tbe poet's home . The times of unrest are past ancl gone , The night was dark , but tbe morn is bright ; Through tbe days of gloom he had wandered on , For " at eA'entide there shall be light . "
The storms of life had well nigh wrought Their worst upon him , and left him slain ; SOITOAV and poverty came unsought , No pleasure he tasted , but only pain . The world was harshbut be struggled on
, , Caring for nothing but only fame ; And at last unto him tbe great sun shone , At the end of the long day honour came . Ancl he camly waits at the close of life , Content that the Avorld now reads him riht ;
g In patience remembering , through , the strife , That " at eA'entide there shall be light . " And we that have sat at bis feet , ancl learned The lessons taught by bis years of care , Should feel that , because all wrong he spurned ,
He was kept from the dread of a dark despair . Our human nature is A'ery frail , And tbe fall of tbe weak is a piteous si ght ; So let us be brave , ancl never quail , For "at eventide there shall be light . "