The Home Circle by Faustine

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Dec 9, 1880

The Home Circle.

By Faustine

MARCH OF THE SEASONS.

First the spring, with rosy fingers, Scatters blossoms o'er the earth, Brings the song-birds and the zephyrs, Fills the brooklet's voice with mirth; Paints the sky with hues of azure, Clothes the earth with robes of green, Kisses all the slumbering blossoms Till their blushes bright are seen.

Then appears the gorgeous summer, With her wealth of heat and glow, Crowned with roses red and gleaming, Decked with lilies pure as snow; All the passion of the tropics Burning in her fiery heart, Onward sweeps the queenly summer, She has played her brilliant part.

Autumn follows in her footsteps, Laden with the golden grain, With the harvest fruits which prove That summer gave no smiles in vain; Touches with her magic brush The leaves upon the forest trees, And they, turned to gold and crimson, Flaunt awhile within the breeze;

Then, their slender hold unloosing, Flutter downward one by one, Fading, dying on the ground, Their brilliant hues grown brown and dun; Lying graveless 'neath the weeping Of the dreary autumn rain, Ne'er shall beauteous life be given To the fallen leaves again.

But old winter, coming fleetly, Spite of all his weight of years, Seems the leaves and flow'rs to pity, Lying dead upon their biers; So he gives them dainty snow-shrouds, O'er them piles the snow-wreaths high, And above their graves the north wind Sadly moans as he goes by. —Faustine.