Idyl

( An Old Man’s). The old man dreams over a checquered life, since the golden days of the beautiful early summer weather, to the time when— “We sit by our household fires together, Dreaming the dreams of long ago; Then it was balmy summer weather, And now the valleys are laid in snow; Icicles hang from the slippery eaves; The wind blows cold—’tis growing late; Well, well! we have garnered all our sheaves, I and my darling, and we can wait.” wait.” Richard Realf (1866).