Bubbles in the air, gay rose-colored glasses,
The years rolling on, how swiftly time passes;
Searching each day for gay baubles so bright,
Hoping my ships won't pass in the night,
Unless they are filled with longings and fears,
Or with broken hearts to be mended with tears--
If so, let them pass -- may a faith fill my soul
With joy and sweet peace as the years swiftly roll.
V.C.
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