Poets Corner.

 Written for the Western Rural.

       EVERGREEN POETRY.

                   BY MABEL LEE.

The world is full of beautiful poems,

      Unborn, unwritten, unsung–

O’er the hills of life- on the wings of time

      They are borne forever along.

Why don’t we enjoy these beautiful things?

      For subjects never can fail;

We’re acting poems in every-day life,

      Though hidden behind a veil.

You may find them beneath the setting sun,

      With its red and fiery glow,

When the cow-bell tinkles in the woods,

      And the rivers are singing low.

There’s poetry in the beetles hum,

      In the locust’s whiz- a-dee;

There’s poetry in the song of frogs,

      That perhaps you cannot see;

In every brown old mossy stone,

      If we could find it, aye,–

In the rocks that have lain a thousand years

      With their faces towards the sky;

In the gude wife sitting beside the door,

      When the evening work is done,

Watching the shadows over the floor,

      Made by the setting sun.

In the musical tinkle of summer showers,

      The rain drops over the eaves,

Wakening to life the summer flowers,

      Filling the golden sheaves.

There’s poetry in the pure white snow

      On a cold and frosty morn,

So full of the real blessings of life–

      Only the’re yet unborn.

Perhaps this poem is long enough,–

      Well, reader, so let it be;

But there’s many a more in this beautiful world

      That you and I might see.

Hillsdale, Mich.

  The Western Rural.

     CHICAGO AND DETROIT, JUN. 2, 1886