Laughed lightly as they loitered down the lane,
And from the covert of the hazel-thicket
The squirrel peeped and laughed at them again.

The bumble-bee that tipped the lily-vases
Along the road-side in the shadows dim,
Went following the blossoms of their faces
As though their sweets must needs be shared with him.

Between the pasture bars the wondering cattle
Stared wistfully, and from their mellow bells
Shook out a welcoming whose dreamy rattle
Fell swooningly away in faint farewells.

And though at last the gloom of night fell o'er them
And folded all the landscape from their eyes,
They only know the dusky path before them
Was leading safely on to Paradise.

[Illustration: (THE LOST PATH)]




MY BRIDE THAT IS TO BE


O soul of mine, look out and see
My bride, my bride that is to be!
Reach out with mad, impatient hands,