Saturday, November 27, 2010


The year grows dim
Fall’s gown is rent
The dashing hymn
Of May is spent

I laid a lily
On the tomb
Where once the bud
Of summer bloomed

Swiftly; how
The seasons fly
Faint glimmer now
Within my eye

Soon we leave
For fairer Homes
Than all of these
Low-vaulted domes

The year grows dim
Around our feet
The hope in Him
Makes us complete


In My Father's house are many mansions.
If it were not so I would have told you. John 14:2

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