212
the postman.
The Postman.
He trudges on his daily round
Through sunshine, storm, and rain,
The messenger of life and death,
Of sorrow, loss, and gain.
Through sunshine, storm, and rain,
The messenger of life and death,
Of sorrow, loss, and gain.
We watch and wait with hopeful hearts,
Longing for him to come;
But at his coming hope departs,
Our singing lips are dumb.
Longing for him to come;
But at his coming hope departs,
Our singing lips are dumb.
He wakes us from our happy dreams,
With his familiar knock;
And dreams dissolve, and castles fall
And crumble at the shock.
With his familiar knock;
And dreams dissolve, and castles fall
And crumble at the shock.
And he goes whistling on his way
Some other home to fill,
With joy and gladness, or, may be
Grave fears of coming ill.
Some other home to fill,
With joy and gladness, or, may be
Grave fears of coming ill.
He brings the old folks news of bairns
They love and yearn to see;
He brings the good wives tidings of
Their dear lords far at sea,
They love and yearn to see;
He brings the good wives tidings of
Their dear lords far at sea,
And funny scrawls from little lads
Away at school he bears
To mothers, whose dear anxious hearts
Are always full of cares.
Away at school he bears
To mothers, whose dear anxious hearts
Are always full of cares.
He is Love's envoy too, for he
Bears many a missive sweet,
From youths to maidens, who rejoice
To hear the postman's feet.
Bears many a missive sweet,
From youths to maidens, who rejoice
To hear the postman's feet.
