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- Here in the evening--who can know But God Himself walks to and fro! And music past all mastering within the chancel rings; None could desire a sweeter choir Than this--that soars and sings, Till far the scented shadows creep-- And quiet darkness bringeth sleep. REQUEST (To E. M.) Sing me a song--a song to ease old sorrows, And dull the edge of care-- A song of Hope to ring through all the morrows That be my share. Unlock the doors where joy hath been in hiding, Though barred they be and strong, And send black grief far down the wind a-riding-- Sing me a song. Sing thou thy sky-lark song of sweetest daring, And April ecstasy, That I may follow it and go a-faring To Arcady. Charm sleep from out the shadows with thy singing, And when the light turns grey, Leave me bright dreams until the dawn comes bringing The rose-edged day. The wind of March taught thee his springtime madness, And then in undertone Whispered the wonder-secret of his gladness To thee alone. And thou hast learned from little brook and river Their tender melody-- The notes that set the thrush's throat a-quiver Are known to thee. Sing me a song--a song to ease old sorrows, And dull the edge of care-- A song of Hope, to ring through all the morrows That be my share. A SONG 0 heart of mine--if I were but a swallow-- A thing so fearless, swift of flight, and free-- On wings unwearied I would find and follow Some path that led to thee! Were I a rose out in the garden growing My sweetness I would give the vagrant breeze For he, perchance, might meet thee all unknowing-- Yet bring thee memories. THE TOAST A toast to thee, 0 dear old year, While the last moments fly, A toast to thy sweet memory-- We'll lift the glasses high, And bid to thee a fond farewell As thou art passing by! A toast to those who reaped success In this good year of grace; A toast to every one of them-- Come! Give the victors place! Come, wish them well with right good will-- The winners in the race! And one toast more! To those who failed Wherever they may be;-- With faces white they fought the fight, But missed the victory; So here's to them--the ones who strove-- On land and on the sea! Fair dreams to thee, 0 grey old year, Thy working time is done, And gone for thee the silver moon, And golden noon-day sun; Yet sad old year--and glad old year
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