There of the heavens to preach us—

Freed from the earth's oubliette,

See how the blossoms beseech us—

Were it not well to forget

Winter and night as they teach us?

Dew and a bud and a star,

These,—like a beautiful thought,

Over man's wisdom how far!—

God for some purpose has wrought;

And though they're that which they are,

What are the thoughts they have brought?

[Pg 26]

Stars and the moon; and they roll

Over our way that is white.

Here shall we end the long stroll?

Here shall I kiss you good-night?

Or, for a while, soul to soul,

Linger and dream of delight?

13

 They enter the garden again.... She, somewhat pensively.

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