Collection of Kansas Poetry

Miss Hattie Horner


This is the quiet end of all 
The old-time strife and hurting fall__
Love holds me in its pleasing thrall. 
Yet not the close! My precious boy, 
In unrestrained and childish joy, 
Is playing with some curious toy: 
For him my old ambition burns, 
For him my heart in silence yearns, 
As one by one life's ways he learns. 
He, too, in part these paths will tread: 
May he press on, sure-stepped, ahead, 
To where the victor's cheeks blush red! 
SO MUCH to do ere hands are cold; 
So far to fare, ere limbs grow old; 
So much to say, if all is told__
That we lose sight of better things; 
Forget, in earthward wanderings, 
To use love's buoyant sweeping wings. 
And I__yes, I sometimes forget
To lure away your care and fret, 
And kiss the cheeks by teardrops wet.   
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