THE SOUTH WIND’S SONG

Sweet and low, upon the wings of morn I come, And bring to you fond mem’ries of the days gone by; The fragrance of the rose, the drowsy bee’s low hum; All these, and more, I weave for you in lullaby. Upon the canvas stretched by the new-born sun I paint quaint scenes of times both sad and gay; Of dreary days, misspent when scarce begun; Of happier times and scenes I sing my lay. Soft and sweet and low, I sing my lullaby, Soothing the tired soul to slumber and repose; And bring to it, ’mid sounds of rarest melody, The peace of mind, the calm, that waking, no one knows. Susie Cornelia Connolly.