The Deadwood

The day has dawned, the night has passed,

And come and gone the wintry blast;

Under the trees and far around

Frail bits of wreckage strew the ground.

All deadwood from the forest hale

Has been dissevered by the gale.

And so may we, O thou most high,

When storms of life sweep fiercely by,

Awake when comes the calm at morn

To find our deadwood actions gone;

Arise to feel our strength renewed,

Through casting off the old deadwood.

c. Nov. 20, 1897

Camb. Chronicle,

Nov. 19, ‘98