Just after the death of the flowers, And before they are buried in snow, There comes a festival season, When nature is all aglow— Aglow with a mystical splendour That rivals the brightness of spring, Aglow with a beauty more tender Than aught which fair summer could bring…. (attributed to Emeline B. Smith, about whom …

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Just after the death of the flowers, And before they are buried in snow, There comes a festival season, When nature is all aglow— Aglow with a mystical splendour That rivals the brightness of spring, Aglow with a beauty more tender Than aught which fair summer could bring…. (attributed to Emeline B. Smith, about whom …

Continue reading →