WORMWOOD ^NIGHTSHADE 



The troubles of life are many, 



The pleasures of life are few ; 

 When we sat in the sunlight, Annie, 



I dream't that the skies were blue — 

 When we sat in the sunlight, Annie, 



I dream't that the earth was green ; 

 There is little colour, if any, 



'Neath the sunlight now to be seen. 



Then the rays of the sunset glinted 



Through the blackwoods' emerald bough 

 On an emerald sward, rose-tinted, 



And spangled, and gemm'd ; — and now 

 The rays of the sunset redden 



With a sullen and lurid frown, 

 From the skies that are dark and leaden 



To earth that is dusk and brown. 



To right and to left extended 



The uplands are blank and drear, 



And their neutral tints are blended 



With the dead leaves sombre and sere ; 



The cold, grey mist from the still side 

 Of the lake creeps sluggish and sure, 



lOI 



