Enters their souls and whispers them of God,

Of distant homes and friends that pray for them;

Enters our cabins and dispels the gloom

Of soundless days and never-ending nights;

Enters our eyes and bids us rise and see

Winter's interment, mourn'd by laughing Spring.

[Pg 14]

[Pg 14]

 Klondyke Roses

When melts at last the lingering snow

In sunny days of May or June,

Amid the velvet mosses grow

Shy roses, fragrant-smelling.

A fated sisterhood is theirs,

They sigh their souls out wistfully;

No bee makes love to them or hears

Their tender love a-telling.

They dream, perhaps, of distant lands,

(O lands, that seem as far-off spheres;)

Of love-lit eyes and tender hands

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