And lend a sweeter song to hidden streams;

She opens all the doors of night, and fills

With moving bells the music of my dreams,

That wander far among the sleeping hills.

Gstaad, August, 1909.

 MATINS

 Flowers rejoice when night is done, Lift their heads to greet the sun; Sweetest looks and odours raise, In a silent hymn of praise.

Flowers rejoice when night is done,

Lift their heads to greet the sun;

Sweetest looks and odours raise,

In a silent hymn of praise.

 So my heart would turn away From the darkness to the day; Lying open in God's sight Like a flower in the light.

So my heart would turn away

From the darkness to the day;

Lying open in God's sight

Like a flower in the light.

 THE PARTING AND THE COMING GUEST

 Who watched the worn-out Winter die? Who, peering through the window-pane At nightfall, under sleet and rain Saw the old graybeard totter by? Who listened to his parting sigh, The sobbing of his feeble breath, His whispered colloquy with Death, And when his all of life was done Stood near to bid a last good-bye? Of all his former friends not one Saw the forsaken Winter die.

Who watched the worn-out Winter die?

Who, peering through the 

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