[Written for the Sentinel.]

Springtide in the Heart

In silence tender, magic, deft,
The hand of Love transforms the earth,
'Till not a barren twig is left
To mar the joys of life's new birth.

Upturned is every earthy clod,
And rising from beneath are seen
Bright flowers rare, sweet thoughts of God;
And hills and fields are clothed in green.

From forest depths that silent were,
The robin pipes, the cardinal trills;
The woods with music seem astir,
And echoes answer from the hills.

Abundance, peace, and treasures true,
On every side God's child can see;
And overhead the changeless blue,
Calm, clear, bespeaks eternity.

No human efforts e'er delay,
Or haste the change the seasons bring;
And no vain words that men may say,
Can stay the charms of budding spring.

For Love its certain law fulfils,
As sure as comes each joyous spring;
Then cease from doubts, and human wills,
And rest beneath His sheltering wing.

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April 1, 1905

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