AS one who by the current's flow is borne
(No need of oar) adown a gentle stream,
Though rapid, gentle, as in a dream,
Lying at length, sees fields of waving corn
And many an orchard, many an emerald lawn
Swept by, and fain would tarry for a while
In such sweets pots, -spots sweet through Nature's smile,
But down the unrelenting stream is borne,
So I, unwilling, though a length of days
That smile, but not for me, have ever sped
Past joys of other men, through hidden ways
Adown my life's mysterious current led:
Yet happy in the thought that soon a day
Shall dawn on joys that may not float away.
E.C.P.
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The Symphony Concert.