I love to read at eve the precious Word
Contented share the days delightful close
I walk content when I its voice have heard
It’s like the bursting of a fragrant rose.

Before a world unkind and full of woes
I pull the curtain and I dream of love
It’s like the blanket that my mother throws
Engulfing arms and heart that throbbed and strove

At morn I love to hear the lark and rove
In meadows where the simple daisy shows
See skipping tossing feathered clouds above
And fervid ecstasies and crimson glows.

But, afternoon how sweet is that repose
All wrapped in contemplation in the grove
Or ‘neath the rustle of the popcorn rows
Or in the winter how I love the stove.