MY POEM ON
"LIFE'S LESSONS."

I learn, as the years roll onward,
And leave the past behind,
That much I had counted sorrow,
But proves that God is kind;

That many a flower I had longed for,
Had hidden a thorn of pain,
And many a rugged bypath,
Led to fields of ripened grain.

We must stand in the deepest shadow,
To see the clearest light;
And often through wrong's own darkness,
Comes the very strength of light.

The sweetest rest is at even,
After a wearisome day,
When the heavy burden of labor,
Has borne from our hearts away;

And those who have never known sorrow,
Can not know the infinite peace,
That falls on the troubled spirit,
When it sees at last release.

We must live through the dreary winter,
If we would value the spring;
And the woods must be cold and silent,
Before the robins sing.

The flowers must be buried in darkness,
Before they can bud and bloom,
And the sweetest, warmest sunshine,
Comes after the storm and gloom.