
I send you greeting, in the enclosed lines, on the advent of your birthday, and beg to subscribe myself very sincerely yours.
W. J. O'Reardon.

Greeting.
The onward march of Time finds thee serene. Thy sturdy soul is still aspiring high: And on the mountain top where fame abides Thou hast long stood, respected and revered. Upon thy brow the light of genius shone: New paths in Poesy's mysterious meads Were trod by thee with vigorous step and share And with the light that beams in beauty's eye. Thy fervid thoughts were born to sweetly bloom, And bring a solace to the human heart. That striving to be free beholds in thee A grand embodiment of manly virtues. The wish is mine that many be thy years, From many of the ills of life entire bereft— Soft sunshine in thy heart find a large place. And Health each day its mystic mantle spread Before thy vision, like a crystal sea, Whose power renews the glory of thy youth. W. J. O'Reardon.

