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Adelia M. Hoyt memoir and photographs
Page 6
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OUR DAYS A day is but a point of time Within the cycle of the years; Tomorrow waits an unknown land Bright with our hopes or dark with fears; While yesterday we leave behind Checkered with smiles and tears. Some days so like each other seem With round of morn and noon and night. That as they pass they fade and blend As do the rainbow tints in white; ;Till down the lengthening stretch of years They vanish out of sight. But there are days whose memory lives In spite of time's destroying hand; To them our hearts will often turn As pilgrims to their native land -- Weary and faint with journeying O'er life's hot desert sand. There for a time old age forgets His silvery looks and stooping form, And feels again the thrills and fire That made his pulses quick and warm -- E'er fell the autumn leaves of life Or blew the winter's storm. The matron turns from busy cares And smiles o'er scenes of long ago, When love first in her heart awoke And dyed her cheek a deeper glow, When life seemed one glad blissful dream And time went all too slow. -6-
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OUR DAYS A day is but a point of time Within the cycle of the years; Tomorrow waits an unknown land Bright with our hopes or dark with fears; While yesterday we leave behind Checkered with smiles and tears. Some days so like each other seem With round of morn and noon and night. That as they pass they fade and blend As do the rainbow tints in white; ;Till down the lengthening stretch of years They vanish out of sight. But there are days whose memory lives In spite of time's destroying hand; To them our hearts will often turn As pilgrims to their native land -- Weary and faint with journeying O'er life's hot desert sand. There for a time old age forgets His silvery looks and stooping form, And feels again the thrills and fire That made his pulses quick and warm -- E'er fell the autumn leaves of life Or blew the winter's storm. The matron turns from busy cares And smiles o'er scenes of long ago, When love first in her heart awoke And dyed her cheek a deeper glow, When life seemed one glad blissful dream And time went all too slow. -6-
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