This is a cold day. I was doing chores to day. W. Stott left here this morning. The Schoolmaster is up this way to night. Jim is not at home to day. I was reading Sunshine and Shadow in New York.
So Tired.
Oh days of hope!
O hours of youth!
O moments fraught
with love and truth!
O summer of the heart!
Ye flit, and pass,
and come again
Like mirage seen
on desart plains-
Ye mock me and depart.
1868
So Tired.
Oh days of hope!
O hours of youth!
O moments fraught
with love and truth!
O summer of the heart!
Ye flit, and pass,
and come again
Like mirage seen
on desart plains-
Ye mock me and depart.
1868
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