And she answered: "when October. Comes, with leaves of Autumn rare,There blooms a flower, the Cosmos, I wait to wear those blossoms fair."
.... It is "autumn:"—in my garden. Is a plant whose radiance gleamsLike a sweet white face that cometh Only to me in my dreams;And I pluck the Cosmos flower Autumn winds did kindly save,But I place the pretty blossoms On a lonely, new-made grave!
THE MOTHER'S THOUGHTS.In the Gloaming.
When the day is slowly fading And the sun is sinking low.Rose-tints o'er the hills a-shading. 'Tis then I love to goAnd sit in the open doorway, Where, gazing down the street.I can see the people come and go And hear their hurrying feet.In my mind I see a maiden. Lovely as the dawn of day,Brow so fair, eyes like blue pansies, Merry, charming, winsome, Ray!Since she left us, nineteen summers Have we spent in the old home."Dead?" you ask: "No, only married.. And to a distant country gone."There comes before me now the dear face Of a boy, a lissom youth;Faults he had some—good qualities, many, And he always spoke the truth.Alas! the tempter came and won him To his side—my bonny boy—And he fell his truth condemned him, But in Heaven for him there's joy.I see a form beside me. I hear a voice so lowI scarce can hear it, my little Blind girl is with me now.Strange, that of all the gay throng She was the chosen one—My little Ruth—to bear the burden So heavily laid upon!In the quiet summer gloaming The thought comes of the oneWho always "did the chores" for me When his daily work was done;
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