On Her Sixteenth Birthday

Sixteen! and life to thee looks bright and fair;-- A book unread, rose-tinted, golden edged, Encased in binding curious, costly, rare;-- And all the years to be thou holdest pledged To give thee from its pages, day by day, Readings to cheer and bless the blithesome way.

And life is such a volume, only thou, From garnered storage of the heart and mind, Must fill unwritten pages, and allow Fair pictures--of pure thought, of self resigned, Of kindly deeds--each new-made page to grace;-- How blest if none thou, later, woulds't efface!

Sixteen! A May-day in the path of life, A marvelous puzzle on the finger twirled; Sixteen again; a stir of earnest strife And toil and tumult in a restless world; Repeated still,--a patient, steadfast hold On good attained,--ripe fruit, and grain of gold.

Sixteen once more! Serene in shade or sun, A brighter outlook now; existence grand! Content in hopes fulfilled, in victories won, Mingling with holier yearnings for that land, Whose o'er-flown radiance and whose surplus bliss Have been the glory and the joy of this.