 | Poems by Henry Septimus Sutton |  |
THE BEST OF IT.
The seasons swiftly come and go,And still we two remain,
Standing amid the changeful flow
Of joy and pain.
The joy we claim; the pain, not small,
We dimly understand;
But oh, thank God, we live through all
Still hand in hand!
| Poems by Henry Septimus Sutton | |