Saturday Press 22nd April, 1882 p3
To talk is quite a pleasant thing,
When themes are grand and bright eyes glisten.
In glad approval of our strain,
Yet sometimes we would sit and listen.
In some low valley sweet with bloom,
Where forest trees have rocked for ages;
Through birds, and bees, and running brooks
Learn wisdom fres from Nature’s pages.
There shut our eyes and hear the hum
Of summer life that never ceases;
But, with the advent of the stars
Goes on and on, and yet increases.
And when the winds of winter blow
And gone is sumer’s balm and glory,
We fain would sit at some dear hearth,
And listen to a touching story.
Some tale of human love and toil
A heart made glad – a broken fetter
A couple joined in holy ties
Something in life to make us better.
Something to turn us from ourselves,
And make us long to do for others;
To stem the tide of hate and wrong,
And deal as brothers should with others.
There’s music sweet in this our world.
In country town, and teeming city,
The children’s song, and hymn of peace,
The lay of love, the tale of pity.
Ah, yes, ’tis sweet to sit and learn,
Or bend the ready ear when walking,
To catch the flow from other hearts,
To listen more and do less talking.
Mrs M.A. Kidds
