I remember the time when we went forth arm in arm over the newly mown fields, scaring the grasshoppers from our pathway, with our baskets on our arms, to gather the blueberries that hung in clusters on their slender stalks. But thou art gone now to the fairer fields of paradise, to pluck sweeter fruit than ever ripened here. Thou art gone! The blueberry bushes have fallen long ago before the scythe; the field has changed its appearance; and as for me, the breezes woo me forth in vain—I cannot go. Sickness and sorrow have come between me and the love of earth; they have cast a dark shadow over what I once thought fair. But as there can be no shadow without a light beyond it I have caught bright glimpses of a better home—a land of life and glory.