The Londonderry sifter. (South Londonderry, Vt.) 1883-19??, 1897-03-12
Night and Morning.

buHdio courier,
Night and Morning.
Goodnight goodnight" drift into my
sumber
AS one who sails into peaceful sea,
OF kindly thoughts each day bestow a
number
! keep to share my ship Of dreams with
me.
And when there comes the blush of dawn,
adjoining
The rosy headlands of the world of light,
] waken with the words: Good morn,
goodmorning!"
But keep the dreams I gather in the
night.
And may the fates prolong this happy
seeming
That dusk and dawn have each the other
brought.
kindly thoughts that sweeten all my
dreaming
o kindly dreams that sweeten all nv
thought.
Nixon Waterman, in l.. A. W. Bulletin.
The SchoOlhouse Flag.
How beautiful 1t blows
Over the roofs SO high,
With stripes like the heart Of the rose,
And stars, as white as the SHOWS,
On background of freedoms SKY!
Flag that the children love;
Flag that their hands have wrought,
And spread to the sun above,
And hlest in their childish thought.
Every flash of its bars.
Every CLEAN of its stars,
kindles the patriot love afresh-
All the lives for 1t lost
Every tear that It cost,
Woven into It's silken mesh.
Spread 1t. o hand of youth
Symbol of Hottest truth,
Splendor of conquering might
Spread It from learnings height!
0 shall 1t be unfurled
Over the widest world,
And waken beyond the sea
Republics that are to be.
James Buckham, in Youths Companion.
At Twilight.
From out the shades of twilight,
When sitting all alone,
hear familiar voices
In gentle winds that moan.
Alas! the leaves, they whisper
OF hopes forever flown,
The language of a sorrow
Acknowledged as my own.
And as the shadows deepen,
Appears a dreamy face
A face of haunting beauty
And Of SURPRISING grace
face that charms the twilight
A moments hallowed space,
Then fades into the darkness
OF its accustomed place.
Then deeper grow the shadows,
Till darkness everywhere
Shuts up the forms of fancy
In towers of despair;
And, like lonely minstrel
Denied his lady fair.
grope about the dungeons
OF castles In the air.
-Joris Won Linden, in Chicago Record.
Man, the Kicker.
In winter, when the cold winds blow.
Man kicks.
He doesn't like the fee and snow;
He hates to see the mercury go
To zero; If it falls below,
He kicks
Oh, how he kicks!
In summer. when the sizzards sizE.
Man kicks.
He groans: Great Scott! how hot 1t Is!
AS II no misery equaled his;
Then, as he wipes his streaming phiz,
He kicks
Oh, how he kicks!
And SO it is, If cold or hot.
Man kicks.
He's never pleased with what he's got.
But growls, and fumes, and swears lot
And, whether 1t is right or not.
He kicks
Oh, how he kicks!
-Somerville Journal.
My Love.
I kissed him-my life's life Is there,
On his forehead, his lips, and his cheek
To others he may n0sseem fair
But to me-O, never can speak
The half of the Heaven know
When l hold him and kiss him-so!
Let the day be curtained by cloud,
IT'S the same as though cheered by tn
sum-
II only at noon-time allowed
In play with my darling to run
To run, and at end of the race,
To hold him and kiss his dear face.
Do you think when a man he Is grown
l shall love him an atom the less
No; off In a world of his own
My own he will still be to bless;
The world is too narrow to part
MY boy from his true mothers heart.
Dorothy Alden, in Home and Country.