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Show . A MEMORY'OF LOIS. ' ' The day when Lois walked with me September skies were blue. The woodbine on the wayside wall Had found its autumn hue. In gown of changing green and rose, With undersleeves of white. With skirt in loose and flowing folds And bodice trim and tight Her low combed hair was Just the shade Of fallen chestnut burrs. The cheeks of mellow astrakhans Are not more ripe than hers. It Beemed the mushrooms showed their caps To win her eyes of brown, And for one look into their depths The orchard boughs bent down. A blossom of the early fall That later days would chill-Dear chill-Dear girl, somewhere those eyes must wear A gleam of summer stilL The rank weeds choke the orchard way . Where once we went and came, And mosses make the marble gray 'Xhat long has borne ner name. But with such still September days As Lois walked with me. She flits before my vibion now, A happy memory. Cora A. Matson in Springfield Republican. |