Ii

One of the sweetest hours is this; (Of all I think we like it best); A little restful oasis, Between the breakfast and the post. Just south of coffee and of toast, Just north of daily task and duty; Just west of dreams, this island gleams, A fertile spot of peace and beauty.

We wander out across the lawn; We idle by a bush in bloom; The household pets come following on; Or if the day is one of gloom, We loiter in a pleasant room, Or from a casement lean and chatter. Then comes the mail, like sudden hail, And off we scatter.