Poem August 2, 1900 Issue

Sunshine

BY MRS. BELLE B. COLEMAN.

Brightly beams the morning sunshine,
Rolling o'er the eastern hills,
Tingeing ferns and brakes with brightness,
Clustered round the mountain rills.

And the distant mountain ridges,
Dark with over-hangings gray,
Glow beneath the morning sunbeams
As the night shades roll away.

As we note the morning sunbeams,
May we not forget, dear friends,
That the sunshine's but a token
Of the love our Father sends.

Let us, then, remember God's love
And be ready all the while,
Just to drive away some heart-clouds
With the sunshine of a smile.

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