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LOVE the beautiful evening
When the sunset clouds are gold;
When the barn-fowls seek a shelter
And the young lambs seek their fold:
When the four-o'-clocks are open,

And the swallows homeward come; When the horses cease their labors, And the cows come home.

When the supper's almost ready,
And Johnny is asleep,

And I beside the cradle

My pleasant vigil keep: Sitting beside the window

Watching for "Pa" to come. While the soft bells gently tinkle As the cows come home.

When the sunset and the twilight

In mingling hues are blent,

I can sit and watch the shadows
With my full heart all content:
And I wish for nothing brighter,
And I long no more to roam
When the twilight's peace comes o'er me,
And the cows come home.

I see their shadows lengthen

As they slowly cross the field, And I know the food is wholesome Which their generous udders yield. More than the tropic's fruitage, Than marble hall or dome, Are the blessings that surround me When the cows come home.

MARY E. NEALEY.

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