To-Days By Abram Joseph Ryan

    Brief while they last,     Long when they are gone;    They catch from the past     A light to still live on.     Brief! yet I ween     A day may be an age,    The poet’s pen may screen     Heart-stories on one page.     Brief! but in them,     From eve back to morn,    Some find the gem,     Many find the thorn.     Brief! minutes…