Year: 1879

The following poem was written by Bayard Taylor
several ago. 1t Is very little known, but il
characerz by such attributes of general worth and
genuine poctical power TO be Of the highest
chapters in the history of real American poetry:l
There's mist on the meadow below; the berring-


frogs Chirp and cry;


It's chill! when the eun is down. and the sod is not yet
The world is lonely place, it seems and don't


know why


rea as lean the fence, how wearily trudges Dan,
With the feel of the epring in his bones, Like weak


and elderly man;


I've had it many time but we must work when we can
But oay after day to toll and ever from sun to sun,
Though up to the seasons front and nothing be left


undOne


In ending AZ twelve like clock. and beginning at
The frogs make sorrowfu noise, and yet it's time


t.Iey mate
There's something comes with the spring Gghtness


or else q weight;


There's something with the Spring, and i.


to me lis tate;


It's hankring after the life that you have learned
It's th dscontcnt OF life that is always thus and so
It's the wondering what We are. and where we are


going to 60.


Ny life s lucky enough fancy. most mems eyes
For the more family grows the Ofener ONE dies
And it's now run on so long. it coudn be otherwise.





aud yield;


She rules in the hose at wil and in the barn and


field;


So nigh upon thirty years !-as if written and signed


and sealed.


couldn't change if l would; I've lost the how and
One day my time will be up and Jane be the mistress


then.


For single women tough, and live down the single


men.


She kept to herself. che always the stronger
And my lot showed well enough when looked around


in the 'and'


Eut I'm tired and sore at heart and don't quite un-


derstand


wonder how it had been If I'd taken what others
The plague they say. of wife, the of younger
II Edith Peassnton now were near me as Edith Reed
Suppose that well grown were there in the place


of Dan,


And f.t myself in him as was hen my work began?
should feel no older, sure, and certainly more of


man!
daughter, besides, in the house; nay, let there be
We never overdo the luck that can never he,
And what has to the most might also have come


to me.


I've thought, when neighbours wife his child was


carried away,
That to have loss was q gain; but nOw-I can


hardly saw;


He to possess them still, under the ridges of


clay.


And share and share In life is, somehow, different
thing
Fromproperty held by deed and the riches that oft
take wing.
feel 80 close in the breast-I think it must be the
Spring.
I'm drying up like brook, when the woods have been
cleared around;
You it must always run you used to the
eight and sound,
But it shrinks till there's only left stony rut in the
ground.
There's nothing to do but take the days they come
and 90,
And not to worry with thoughts that nobody likes to
show;
For people seldom talk of the things they want to
There's time when the way is plain and every thing
near right, |
And then of sudden You stand like man with
clouded sight;
bush seems often beast, in the dusk of falling
night
must move; my joints stiff, the weather is breed
ing rain,
And Ian Is hurrying ON with his plow team up the |
lane,
III 20 to the village store; I'd rather not talk with
Jaue.