Happy Days
Born 9/26/1846
A fringe of rushes -- one green line
Upon a faded plain;
A silver streak of water-shine --
Above, tree-watchers twain.
It was our resting-place awhile,
And still, with backward gaze,
We say: "'Tis many a weary mile --
But there were happy days."
And shall no ripple break the sand
Upon our farther way?
Or reedy ranks all knee-deep stand?
Or leafy tree-tops sway?
The gold of dawn is surely met
In sunset's lavish blaze;
And -- in horizons hidden yet --
There shall be happy days.
DayPoems Poem No. 878
<a href="http://www.daypoems.net/poems/878.html">Happy Days by Mary Hannay Foott</a>
The DayPoems Poetry Collection, www.daypoems.net
Timothy Bovee, editor
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