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THE INDIAN ADVOCATE mm The Dying Year. i w JfLgA And yet, its sad, sweet, twilight loveliness j-?-J$4 Suroly to some must come to soothe and b ere is a beauty in the dying year; know not which it asks, a smile or tear; bless. The restless energy of Spring has passed: So too, the heated Summer's toil and strife; at last The varied harvests all are garnered in And peaceful hearth-side joys shall soon begin. There is a stillness in the dying year, A solemn hush, a warning low yet clear, Presaging direful struggles soon to be When Nature's year shall know its agony. Although, these days, man knows a quiet joy, There is an under-vein of dark ;illoy; For sterner thoughts oft weight these minds of ours, Stealing upon us in our idle hours. There is a sadness in the dying year, But one whose note 'tis well for man to hear, That he may give the coming beauteous spring, Poor changing one, a truer welcoming. All Nature is God's living, earthly voice: It warns, sustains, anon bids us rejoice, ' Repeating and, though scorned, repeating still The Truth, the Truth of Faith and God's True will. They say that souls nigh unto death do see In truer light, the Infinite's decree And leave their bretheren in mortality Their greatest, and a priceless, legacy. So now, the frame of dying Nature grieves; Her voice comes falt'ring through the listless leaves And struggling with decay, in her last breath, Bids man forget not Time and Change and Death. - James O'Keefe, O. S. B.