And after prayer for the parted soul,
They have thanked the slender dole,
And spoken of hope of days to come,
And have forgotten their martyrdom.
The anguished grief of motherhood
Has firmly whispered "God is good
And can in His Eternity
Repay this present loss"; till I
Have almost turned my head to see
If Christ has not come in with me!
_Gentle Jesus, mild and meek,
These the simple words I speak
Are the faith Thou gavest me;
Suffer me to come to Thee!_
_SIC TRANSIT_
They camped in the meadow at sunrise,
And their crests gleamed bright in the sun,
And the breeze that blew sighed soft, for it knew
Their fate e'er the day was done.
They lay in the meadow at sunset,
As the sky in anger blushed red;
For the host of the dawn lay still on the lawn--
The host was a host of dead.
Let the gardener but pass his scythe o'er the grass--
And the life of a daisy is sped!
* * * * *
MONICA SALEEBY
_RETROSPECT_
You loved the child of fifteen years.
I knew not this vast thing.
Your great heart shrank beneath your fears;
You left me wondering.
Now fourteen years have passed us by;
Our souls meet once again;
And, meeting, I have asked you why
Our ways apart have lain?
And now your answer comes at last:--
"I loved you in that day.
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