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An old man sat by the cottage íire, And lie watched the cliildren play ; And a tear stole ddwn his aged cheék, But be v, iped it not away ; For his thmights had wandered back again To the scènes of ether years, And his spirit had found a glad relief lu thotUUkig of his tears. Again he played on the dear old hoarth, And he hcard a moUier's voiee. And the gentle tones feil on his ears, And they made his heart rejoice; Again he joined in the blind maii's buff, And ihe game of Inde and ■ And he heard his 1 t r 1 ■ - sisfer's voice, So gentle, soft and meek. Then in the shade, by the woodland dell, He sat wirli liis piciure lvok, Or wandered to seek some wild bird's nest That hungo'er the rippling broofc, Till, tiredand vveary of boyhood's play, He tunied to his home again, By the rus tic stile and the broken bridge, Aud the shady old green lane. And thus the old man sat and mused, And the tears feil down his cheek, And a happier hour it was to him _ ïhau the old man's toagne could speak. Yet he knew 'twas but a pleasant dream That too soon had passed o'er That his eyes were dim and his locks were And he should be young no more, [grey,


Old News
Michigan Argus