| EVENING met the morning,
When the bud began to bloom; But the frost of night had blighted The sweet flower in its bloom. Close then its petals folded And so quietly it lay, A child of early morning, In death at close of day. The blighting frosts of springtime, Have cut many proud hopes down, While unfolding in their brightness___ How all happiness has flown. Man conceives a fancy picture Blooming with life's grandest hopes; But his fostered hopes oft perish, When in saddened gloom he gropes. __James A. DeMoss |
Kansas Zephyrs
James A. DeMoss
(Thayer, Kansas: ___. 1892)
Page 43
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