The tender fields, the trees and grass, and all
The hopes and dreams that every man holds dear.

O, silvery voices, sweet with life and youth
Brushing our grey lives with your rainbow wings--
Lives that were stern and bitter with old wrong,
And cleansing them with beauty and with truth;
Reviving memories of vanished springs--
Making us whole with miracles of song!



TO EDITH

Do you remember how we walked that night
In early spring?
And how we found a new and sweet delight
In everything?
Do you remember how the air was filled
With mist and moonlight--how our hearts were thrilled--
And seemed to sing?

What if these walls shut out the world for me
And heaven too,
There still lives fragrant in my memory
The thought of you.
And out there now with life's high dome above you
If you but knew how very much I love you--
If you but knew . . . .