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Looking Back

From The Birmingham Age Herald, September 3, 1914.

’Tis sweet to sing vacation days
    Because, you see, they’re ended;
From mountain inns and summer bays
    ‘Most everyone has wended
Back to the walks where duty lies
    And daily tasks are calling.
Ere long will clouds obscure the skies
    And winter rains be falling.

In retrospect, methinks, we drain
    A cup of sweetest pleasure
And wonder if we’ll e’er again
    Have granted us a measure
Of summer joys so brimming full
    Of mirthfulness and laughter,
With scarce a thought of labors dull
    And troubles to come after.

We don’t recall the insect swarm
    That started us to swearing,
The sultry days and nights so warm
    We almost were despairing;
The stuffy room, the tiresome bed,
    The food we vowed was “rotten”—
Though but a week or two has sped,
    These ills are all forgotten.

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