106
POEMS BY CLARA A. MERRILL
EVERY CLOUD HATH SILVER LINING
(In response to "Pennies In The Box" by R. F. D. carrier No. 1, Buckfield.)
It is said that there are sunbeams
Shining in the distant blue;
Tho' the dark and angry storm-clouds
May obscure them from our view,
Thus, mayhaps, the seeming hardships
Of the rural carrier's lot
Are but shadows, merely flitting
Lest the sunbeams get too hot.
Shining in the distant blue;
Tho' the dark and angry storm-clouds
May obscure them from our view,
Thus, mayhaps, the seeming hardships
Of the rural carrier's lot
Are but shadows, merely flitting
Lest the sunbeams get too hot.
Though at times, the mailman's fingers
Are half frozen, and he talks
Language of his own invention,—
Cursing "pennies in the box."—
Though obliged to doff his mittens
In the zero wind, intent
On opening an icy mail-box—
Struggling with a wayward "cent."
Are half frozen, and he talks
Language of his own invention,—
Cursing "pennies in the box."—
Though obliged to doff his mittens
In the zero wind, intent
On opening an icy mail-box—
Struggling with a wayward "cent."
He should ne'er let angry passions
Vex his spirit—cloud his brow,—
For, beyond the sombre cloudlet
There are sunbeams shining now!
Vex his spirit—cloud his brow,—
For, beyond the sombre cloudlet
There are sunbeams shining now!
