228 A LOST SUMMER.
"Then flying on, wearily homeward,
With wings slowly beating the air, I pondered the sweet lesson over, And sought better trust in His care.
" Then lo ! on the barn-gable yonder,
Where dwelleth good Ulric the Swede, I saw the great wheat-sheaf uplifted That Northmen bestow on our need."
When Christmas its beautiful story Repeats from the bells far and nigh,
The birds of the air, unforgotten, Draw near to their banquet on high.
We ll sing, as we go, our thanksgiving, We ll try, as we never have tried,
To remember the wood-singer s lesson, And trust to the Lord to provide.
��A LOST SUMMER.
HAS any one seen a lost summer, Strayed, stolen, or otherwise gone, First missed when the leaves of September, Turned, showed us a frost-graven dawn ? And now she has hidden in frolic
Beneath the low-lying, bright leaves. Has any one seen a lost summer
Afield with the banded corn-sheaves ?
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