Mary D. Brine

The mantle of evening is veiling the sky,And over the landscape its soft shadows lie;The old year is passing, a new year will reign,Ere earth shall awaken to day-dawn again. Dear Grandma has folded her knitting away,And muses alone at the close of the day;While the old clock ticks solemnly off, one by one,The moments yet left to the year almost done. Out from the shadows fast filling the room,Out from... more...