I.

N OVEMBER days are dull and dark,
And well they teach the heart to ponder,
Which sometimes needs must pause to mark
How fades from earth its garb of wonder.

II.

We breathe at whiles so charmed an air,
By sound each leaf's light fall we learn,
No breeze disturbs the spider's snare,
That hangs with dew the stately fern.

III.

Soon heaves within the boundless frame
A strong and sullen gust of life,
And rolling waves and woods proclaim
The untuned world's increasing strife.

IV.

'Mid boom, and clang, and stormy swell,
And shadows dashed by blast and rain,
Leaves heaped, whirled, routed, sweep the dell,
And glimpses course the leaden main.

V.

And yet, though inward drawn and still,
There beats a hidden heart of joy;
Beneath the old year's mantle chill
Sleeps, mute and numb, the unconscious boy.

VI.

And they who muse and hope may guess
With faith assured the future spring;
But him who loves all hours will bless,
All months to him of May-time sing.

VII.

“At least I've known,” young Henry said,
“How dark soe'er new days may prove,
Love's inspiration shared and fed
By her I love.”

VIII.

With lifted brow, and buoyant heart,
He now fulfilled his daily toil,
And e'en 'mid weary tasks would start
Bright springs from desert soil.

IX.

He stood with zeal the untaught to teach,
'Mid fifty faces young and rude,
And turned a cheerful front to each,
That brightened them and yet subdued.

X.

He strove that clear they might discern,
What aims to man true value give,
And said—“You do not live to learn,
But learn that you may better live.”