The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1880-05-07
EvENrIDE.
Nov ,~anes the golden light OF day.
A.. a-....I.. ..t..l~.. tl,a ...,. A., raaf

Nov ,wanes the golden light OF day.
Al slowly sinks the sun 10 rest,
Aud leaves behind golden ray,
The soul 70 cheer, the sight to bless;
Hoon will the velvet pail be spread
BY dArk-winged goddess OF the night,
And seep-twin brother Of the dead
Weigh down the eyelids by his might
from bramble near and quickest hedge
Is heard the whip poor-wills lone cry,
While In the ancient oak o'erhead
The hooting owls their high notes try;
The flowers fold their tiny hands,
As IL b breathe prayer TO Him
Who gave them all their brightest hues,
His earth 10 deck, His fields to gem.
7he weary granger slowly plods
His homeward path from daily toll
on hobbling DER the sun-baked clods
To gain his bread from of the soil
His good dame, maid of all works
Cook, governess aud milkmaid, all
stands calling at the pasture bars
The COWS, that answer with bawi,
The busy mart is all aglow
With Tampa that supersede the day,
And laborers from their shopwork go,
As distant sounds the noisy dray;
The tradesman, low DER day-book bent,
Recounts again his daily sale,
And reckons loss, and gain, and rent,
That he, like others, may not faii-
What mean those sweet strains of music
That gently noat upon the air
Through the window Of your mansion,
Where's thronged the young, the gay and fair
Oh, within there's ball tonight,
In honor of the eldest son,
whom marnmss court, both left and right
To-days the last of twenty-one!
The night il spent in gayety,
While flying feet to music sweet
Keep time with regularity,
Until the " first days" timid peep.
Oh, proud, proud ones of humankind,
That grace your lovely mother earth,
Reck We not that you He'll find,
Fen mid gay jollity and mirth?
A sound of reyeiry is heard
Within the palaces Of sin,
Where's spent the price of daily bread
For poison whisky. rum and gin;
While down yon dark and lonely street
An old and squahd cottage stands,
Where sits with heart too sore to weep
A pale-faced woman with clenched hands.
No light within, and scant the fire,
That smoldering lies upon the hearth,
While starving children round her are
That once were full of JOY and mirth.
1t is the home OF him who once
Gave early promises of good,
but love of wine has been the curse
That robs his children of their food.
But ere Luna her night-robe dons,
OF lowing zephyr, heecy white,
And little stars, with night-caps on,
Come forth TO dance the hvelong night,
Old Sol sends light, his daughter fair
who welded heat from Hades OUT,
Entrusted with missive rare
on what the day has brought about.
Maid Dawn, in early fragrant morn,
Rolled up the curtain OF the night,
Whilst Aurora, from her mountain home,
Welcomed all with smiles of light;
And drumming on an ancient log,
With never-ceasing roundelay,
Wide heldward farmers are agog.
The pheasant heralds in the day.
The flowers FIRST the sunshine claim
To mark their modest golden hue,
And then the waving verdant grain
That's wet with mornings gentle dew:
A Rxtion's born, nation dies,
Tween sun and sun of every day;
One filed with mirth, another cries;
Commingled are the sad and gay.
Sol made his boast OF colors gay
That's seen in heavens golden hoop,
~ travellers famished by the way
Where he'd dried all the water up;
And then list Of other things
But here rude Boreas grasped the sheet,
And bore 1t meath his stormy wings
Unto his home upon the sea.
.kERxY Kan