A follower of the Gleam.

We lay upon your well-earned grave
The wreath of asphodel,
We speak above your peaceful face
The tender word Farewell!
For well you fare, in God's good care,
Somewhere within the blue,
And know, to-day, your dearest dreams
Are true,--and true,--and true!

(Read at the funeral of Mr. Stedman, January 21, 1908.)




LYRICS

DRAMATIC AND PERSONAL

LATE SPRING

I

Ah, who will tell me, in these leaden days,
Why the sweet Spring delays,
And where she hides,--the dear desire
Of every heart that longs
For bloom, and fragrance, and the ruby fire
Of maple-buds along the misty hills,