"In God's own time," he said, "I'll come to you;

You will be waiting; I will find you there!"

But now I know that he must never hear

The message that I promised to impart,

For should I breathe the secret in his ear

His soul would hearken—but 'twould break his heart!

[70]

[70]

CONFESSION.

As one, a poet of a fairy's train,

Might sit beside a violet's stem and view

Its opening petals, watch the wondrous blue

Thrill through their fibers, and their secret gain

Of how the earth and sky and wind and rain

Had given them life and form and scent and hue,—

So I have gazed into the eyes of you,

Those rare blue eyes, and have not looked in vain;

For they have told me all that I would know,

Even as the violets their secret tell

Unto the wistful spirits of the grove—

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