A RETURN.
The charm of the golden trees, The glow of the golden day, And the garden walks with their nmrin'ring bees, Soothe all my cares away. My soul is sick of the strife Where pulses' never are stilled : But here, in the rest of a simple life, God's promise is fulled. When the bramble bears its fruit, And mints cross over the lea, And soft as the sound of a distant flute The sheep-bells chime to me. When the bracken turns to gold, And down in the winding lane A little bird sings nye the songs of old Till youth comes back again. Then trouble and pain depart, And comfort and peace draw near, And all the foes of a timorous heart Like phantoms disappear. And the Autumn lands grow fair With a light that seems divine ; And the treasures I left in childhood there, Once more are wholly mine., — Sarah Doudney, in the Quiver.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WT18861106.2.32.4
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Waikato Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2236, 6 November 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)
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156A RETURN. Waikato Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2236, 6 November 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)
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