And saw a little child at play

Among the strong and lovely trees;

The dead leaves rustled to her knees;

Her hair and eyes were brown as they.

“Oh, little child,” I softly said,

“You come a long, long way to me;

The trees that tower overhead

Are here in sweet reality,

But you’re the child I used to be,

And all the leaves of May you tread.”

{16}

{16}

A Rainy Day

IT has been twilight all the day,

I

And as the twilight peace

On daily fetters seems to lay

The finger of release,

So, needless as to tree and flower

Seem care and fear and pain;

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