Prairie asters fringed and bright,
Add to Autumn beauty-light;
Down the valleys, on the hills,
Fringing deep the prairie rills,
Asters bright, you bring sweet cheer,
Love to light the fading year.
TO EIGHTY-EIGHT AND EIGHTY-NINE.
WHAT hast thou left, Old Year ?
A grave that holds one ever dear,
Where cherished dreams are laid away,__
December's chilled my buds of May:
Thou left'st sere leaves and withered hopes,
A sombre Vale where a shadow gropes;
A deed undone, a sad regret
That will not let my soul forget.
What hast thou brought, New Year?
Fair promise nipped by ghastly fear,__
Or will the flowers, that now seem dead,
On Easter morn lift up their head
And smile with resurrected life
Of joy, where deadly pain and strife
Had choked it out ? I still will hope,
Though heart and soul 'mid shadows grope.