AUTHOR OF "THE GOLDEN DOG," "CANADIAN IDYLLS," ETC.
Sonnet
—
"For the hairs of your head are all numbered."
—
God numbers them, His servants' hoary hairs,
Blanched for eternity, no longer seen
In glory of a youthful Nazarene
Bareheaded in the sun, but fraught with cares
And fewer, as each year our strength impairs,
And we are hit with arrows straight and keen
Of Death's strong Angel, shooting hard between
To prove our armour how it holds and wears,
"But not a hair shall perish," in the rage
of wintry storms now near, which without ruth
Will cast our bark of life upon the shore
Of the immortal spirits, where old age
Drops from us, and the beauty of our youth
Returns, and we grow younger ever more.
