Roosevelt Standard | 1938-12-08 | Page 11 | This Little Moment

this little moment seymore se nore gordon linch and though black shadows press about my head and the night wrap suffocating sleeves around my throat and though my dreams be dead and all my glittering hopes prove sneaking thieves that steal my strength away this hour shall pa pass ss this day that drains my faith shall live to be dimly recalled as through a clouded glass while the wings of brighter hopes blur widely free for there are rhythms here in life as well As in the poets line and the tides come in and the tides go out and even as they fell the bold suns rise and from night the days begin this little domeni moment when I 1 nurse my sorrows must lose itself in myriad bright tomorrows