There is ever a song somewhere, my dear,
Be the skies above or dark or fair;
There is ever a song that our hearts may hear--
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear--
There is ever a song somewhere!
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear,
In the midnight black or the midday blue:
The robin pipes when the sun is here,
And the cricket chirrups the whole night through;
The buds may blow and the fruit may grow,
And the autumn leaves drop crisp and sere:
But whether the sun or the rain or the snow,
There is ever a song somewhere, my dear.
* From "Afterwhiles." Copyright, 1887. By permission of the
Bowen-Merrill Company, publishers; Indianapolis, Indiana.
THE JOURNEY OF LIFE.
AN ALLEGORY.
Once upon a time, a good many years ago, there was a traveler,
and he set out upon a journey. It was a magic journey, and was to
seem very long when he began it, and very short when he got
halfway through.
He traveled along a rather dark path for some little time,
without meeting anything, until at last he came to a beautiful
child.
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