BY EVA E. AMES.
A new year dawns, we fain would see
Beyond its folds futurity,
Impatiently we strive to know
The easiest, fairest way to go,
And fret at thorns beside the way
That prick us undeserved, we say.
We would elude the rock-strewn road
We would cast off each weary load,
Forgetting that the mountain's crest
Is only reached through trial's test.
Unmindful that Earth's sunset fair
Could e'er with Heaven's dawn compare,
Ah! poor the courage, weak the power,
That fails us in the crucial hour,
When, in the distance, faint and sweet,
We almost hear their hurrying feet
To welcome us. Dost understand?
Oh! heart of mine, the toil is grand.
South Wallingford, Vt.
Troy Times. January 6, 1923