50
The Conservative
Edited by H.P. Lovecraft.
Benediction
The sun has sunk down, and a ling'ring trace
Of burnish'd gold tints the hills of grey;
And across the evening's pearl-scarr'd face
A lone loon wings his unheeded way.
The shadows are deep round the shelter'd lake,
And the swamp is hid in a vapour veil
That rises and falls o'er the wild rice brake,
And wavers and floats like a phantom sail.
A star burns clear in the folds of night,
And through the deep thicket that lines the shore
Shines a flickering fleck of crimson light,
That glows from a distant cottage door.
The day is done, and o'er Earth's broad span
A sweet, solemn silence gently falls,
And peace caresses the sons of Man,
In the peasant's cot and the Baron's walls.
Andrew Francis Lockhart
Another Endless Day.
Another endless day;
A night that flies too soon;
Unwilling toil, half-hearted play,
From new to waning moon!
No joy, nor heart to laugh;
No hope whore once 'twas high;
The cup I've but begun to quaff
Is stale--the fountain dry!
Oh, for a cause to fight;
A passion or a pang;
A love to thrill with new delight;
A grief I never sang!
Something to stir my soul
As not in life before;
To make the weary spirit whole,
And bless the day once more!
Rheinhart Kleiner.
