Note P — Front matter (continued 2)

We watch for the light of the morn to break, And colour the gray eastern sky With its blended hues of saffron and lake; Then say to each other, "Awake, awake! For our winter’s honey is all to make, And our bread for a long supply." Then off we hie to the hill and the dell, To the field, the wild-wood and bower; In the columbine’s horn we love to dwell, To dip in the lily, with snow-white bell, To search the balm in its odorous cell, The thyme and the rosemary flower. We seek for the bloom of the eglantine, The lime, pointed thistle, and brier; And follow the course of the wandering vine, Whether it trail on the earth supine, Or round the aspiring tree-top twine, And reach for a stage still higher. As each for the good of the whole is bent, And stores up its treasure for all, We hope for an evening with hearts content, For the winter of life, without lament That summer is gone, with its hours misspent, And the harvest is past recall!