---
title: Improvement Era
description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930.
authors:
  - Curtis, Theo. E.
collections:
  - periodicals
tags:
  - magazine
  - improvement-era
periodical: Improvement Era
volume: 12
number: 3
published: 1909-01
publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
publisher_place: Salt Lake City
language: en
type: magazine
reference: 'Curtis, Theo. E., "Gladys," *Improvement Era* 12, no. 3 (January 1909): 212.'
source:
  url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1203unse
  transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers.
  identifier: improvementera1203unse
start_page: 212
end_page: 212
rights:
  status: public-domain
  basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1909-01)
  source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1203unse
  publication_year: 1909
  note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1909, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright.
---

# Gladys

<!-- page:212 -->

GLADYS.
(For the Improvement Era.)
Yonder winds the river, Gladys,
Where so often, side by side,
We have watched the golden sunset,
Fade upon the silver tide.
But, alas, death's jealous angel
Tore our destinies apart;
Flung a veil before my vision,
And a wound upon my heart.
Now the snow is on the meadow,
Now the flowers along the rill
Slumber on their parent bosom,
And the earth is cold and still.
Salt Lake City, Utah.
Yet I know when sullen winter
Takes his flight from field and glen,
Earth in all her strength and beauty
Shall awake and bloom again.
Now your head is low in slumber,
Beautiful, but faded, flower.
Now the red leaves and the snow drift
Wrap your form in yonder bower;
Yet, when morning breaks in glory
O'er those silent haunts of men,
Clothed upon with grace and beauty,
You shall rise and bloom again!
Theo. E. Curtis.
