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Show -THE CARNERINC TIMES. Fair 1 the world, now autumn's wearing, And the sluggard sun lie Ion abed; Sweet are the days, now winter's searing, And all winds feign that the wind i dead. Dumb is the hedge where 1 he crabs hang yellow, Bright as the blossoms of the tprln; Dumb is the close whore the pears grow mellow And none but the dauntless red breast sing. Fair was the spring, but amidst his greening Oray were the days of the hidden sun; Fair was the summer, but overweening So soon his o'er-sweet days were done. Com then, love, for peace is upon us, Far off Is falling, and far is fear. Here where the rest In the end hath won us, In the garnering tide of the happy year. Come from the gray old house by the water, Where, farfrun the lipsofiha hungry sea, Qreeu groweth the grass o'er the field of the slaughter, And all is a tale for thee and me. William MorrU. |