Blooming late and all alone!

  Once the daisies gold and white Sea-like through the meadow rolled: Once my heart could hardly hold All its pleasures. I remember, In the flood of youth's delight Separate joys were lost to sight. That was summer! Now November Sets the perfect flower apart; Gives each blossom of the heart Meaning, beauty, grace unknown,— Blooming late and all alone.

Once the daisies gold and white

Sea-like through the meadow rolled:

Once my heart could hardly hold

All its pleasures. I remember,

In the flood of youth's delight

Separate joys were lost to sight.

That was summer! Now November

Sets the perfect flower apart;

Gives each blossom of the heart

Meaning, beauty, grace unknown,—

Blooming late and all alone.

November, 1899.

 THE ANGLER'S REVEILLE

 What time the rose of dawn is laid across the lips of night, And all the little watchman-stars have fallen asleep in light, 'Tis then a merry wind awakes, and runs from tree to tree, And borrows words from all the birds to sound the reveille.

What time the rose of dawn is laid across the lips of night,

And all the little watchman-stars have fallen asleep in light,

'Tis then a merry wind awakes, and runs from tree to tree,

And borrows words from all the birds to sound the reveille.

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