Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Happy Days
A fringe of rushes, one green line
Upon a faded plain;
A silver streak of water-shine,
Above, tree-watchers twain.
It was our resting-place awhile,
And still, with backward gaze,
We say: “'Tis many a weary mile,
But there were happy days.”
And shall no ripple break the sand
Upon our farther way?
Or reedy ranks all knee-deep stand?
Or leafy tree-tops sway?
The gold of dawn is surely met
In sunset's lavish blaze;
And, in horizons hidden yet,
There shall be happy days.
poem
by
Mary Hannay Foott
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black